FRANK 

MEREIWELL 

IN  CAMP 


5URT • L 
STAN  DISH 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


The  match  burned  brighter.  Frank  Merriwell  remained  perfectly  motionless. 
He  could  have  been  seen  had  either  of  the  two  village  lads  looked  in  his 
direction.  Page  245. 


FRANK  MERRIWELL 
IN  CAMP 


BURT  L  STANDISH 

AUTHOR  OF 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days,"  "Frank  Merriwell's  Chums," 

"Frank  Merriwell's  Foes,"  "Frank  Merriwell's 

Trip  West,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

DAVID   McKAY,   PUBLISHER 

604-8  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE 


Copyright,  1898  and  1904 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 

Frank  MerriweU  in  Camp 


FRANK  MERRIWELL  IN  GAMP. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN    INSULT    IN    CAMP. 

"There !"  grunted  Bruce  Browning,  as  he  lay  back  and 
looked  at  the  white  roof  of  the  tent.  "I  do  hope  we  are 
settled  at  last.  I  feel  like  piling  onto  that  bed  and  taking  a 
good  snooze." 

"But  you  can't  do  it,  my  boy !"  declared  Frank  Mem- 
well. 

"Can't?    Why  not?" 

"This  is  a  cadet  encampment." 

"What  of  that?    We're  not  cadets." 

"But  we  must  conform  to  certain  rules,  as  long  as  we 
have  been  given  the  courtesy  of  a  tent.  It  would  de- 
moralize the  whole  camp  if  we  were  to  laze  round  on  the 
beds  so  that  the  cadets  could  look  in  and  see  us." 

"That's  so,"  nodded  Bart  Hodge,  who  was  taking  care 
that  everything  was  in  perfect  order. 

"My  gracious,"  gasped  Bruce.  "Do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  that  I  can't  be  comfortable  here — that  I  am  to  be  robbed 
of  my  regular  afternoon  nap?" 

"There  will  be  no  daytime  naps  taken  in  this  tent," 
declared  Frank.  "Not  before  tattoo  sounds  at  night  can 
you  think  of  retiring,  and  at  reveille  you'll  have  to  turn 
out." 

"Oh,  say !  I  don't  think  much  of  that !  What  are  we 
here  for  ?  That  won't  be  any  fun." 


2035361 


6  An  Insult  in  Camp. 

"We  are  here  for  fun,  but  we  must  look  out  and  obey 
the  rules  of  the  camp  if  we  wish  to  remain  here." 

"Oh,  come,  Merry !  What  sort  of  stuff  are  you  giving 
us!  While  we  were  in  the  academy  you  did  nothing  but 
break  rules  and  turn  things  bottom  side  up." 

"But  I  took  good  care  not  to  be  caught  at  it,"  smiled 
Merry.  "If  I  had  been  caught,  we  should  have  received  a 
polite  invitation  to  cut  our  visit  short." 

"That's  right,  Browning,"  nodded  Hodge. 

"If  I  don't  get  my  regular  nap  I  shall  waste  away  and 
become  very  ill,"  sighed  Bruce. 

"It'll  be  a  good  thing  if  you  waste  away  somewhat," 
declared  Frank.  "You  can  stand  lots  of  wasting." 

"But  I  will  sleep !    I'll  close  the  tent  and " 

"Not  on  your  life !  Both  ends  of  the  tent  must  be  kept 
open  and  hooked  back  during  certain  hours,  and  you  will 
not  be  allowed  to  close  it." 

"But  what  can  I  do?  I  know !  I'll  go  over  to  Snodd's 
and  get  a  nap  there.  That's  the  stuff !  Then  you  chaps 
will  not  be  able  to  disturb  me  with  your  senseless  pranks 
and  jokes." 

"That  will  be  first  rate,"  chuckled  Frank.  "Already 
Belinda,  the  farmer's  gentle  daughter,  the  sylph-like  crea- 
ture who  tips  the  beam  at  two  hundred  and  twenty-three 
pounds,  is  beginning  to  let  up  on  me  and  waste  her  affec- 
tions on  you.  She'll  think  she  has  you  on  the  string,  and 
she'll  think  you  are  coming  there  to  see  her." 

Browning  groaned. 

"This  is  tough,"  he  declared.  "It  doesn't  seem  to  me 
that  we  are  going  to  have  much  fun  in  camp." 

"Oh,  wait,"  advised  Bart.  "There  are  rules  to  be 
obeyed  in  the  daytime,  but  when  night  comes " 

"Unless  things  have  changed,  there  will  be  rackets  ga- 
lore/' finished  Frank. 


An  Insult  in  Camp.  7 

"But  it  is  pretty  tough  on  a  fellow  to  racket  around  all 
night  and  not  get  a  chance  to  sleep  in  the  daytime." 

"You'll  get  used  to  it.  Let's  go  out  and  look  the  camp 
over." 

The  boys  followed  Frank  from  the  tent,  which  was  set 
a  little  apart  from  the  others.  Browning  knew  very  little 
of  cadet  life,  but  Merriwell  and  Hodge  felt  quite  at  home 
there. 

"You  see  the  tents  are  arranged  in  four  rows  so  that 
they  make  three  streets,"  explained  Frank.  "These  streets 
are  known  as  A,  B  and  C.  The  plebes  are  in  the  last  row, 
which  faces  on  C  Street.  The  yearlings  won't  do  a  thing 
with  them  to-night !" 

"They  are  like  the  sophs  and  freshmen  at  Yale,  eh?" 

"Sure.  At  West  Point  the  yearlings  have  very  little 
chance  to  get  at  the  plebes  after  going  into  camp,  as  the 
entire  camp  is  lighted  by  gas  jets.  Here  it  is  different. 
Gas  is  not  obtainable,  and  an  attempt  to  introduce  kerosene 
lamps  resulted  disastrously  to  the  lamps,  which  were 
smashed  night  after  night.  Under  cover  of  darkness  the 
yearlings  get  in  their  work,  and  the  plebes  suffer." 

As  they  strolled  along  the  streets  they  glanced  into  the 
tents,  where  everything  was  in  the  most  perfect  order. 
In  every  tent  the  bedding  was  piled  in  a  uniform  and  pre- 
cise manner,  the  clothing  was  hung  in  a  regular  order, 
the  guns  were  in  the  racks,  barrels  to  the  front,  accoutre- 
ments and  forage  caps  were  hung  on  certain  hooks,  and 
any  one  tent,  outside  and  in,  looked  almost  precisely  like 
every  other  tent. 

Within  some  of  the  cadets  were  polishing  rifles,  brush- 
ing clothing,  or  putting  on  the  last  finishing  touches  in  the 
work  of  getting  things  in  order. 

The  cadets  at  Fardale  were,  as  a  rule,  a  wild  lot,  for 
many  of  them  had  been  sent  there  by  parents  who  could 
not  handle  them  at  home,  and  who  hoped  the  discipline 


8  An  Insult  in  Camp. 

they  would  receive  at  a  military  school  would  tone  them 
down  somewhat.  Expulsion  from  Fardale  was  a  last  re- 
sort applied  to  a  cadet  who  could  not  be  handled. 

Frank  Merriwell  had  in  former  years  been  a  pupil  at 
Fardale  Military  Academy,  along  with  his  intimate  friend, 
Bart  Hodge. 

But  now  Frank  was  a  student  at  Yale  College  and  had 
been  for  two  years. 

It  was  vacation  time  at  Yale,  and  Frank  had  thought  it 
would  be  fun  to  go  down  to  Fardale  and  visit  the  old  school 
once  more,  and  meet  many  old  friends. 

He  had  taken  Bart  Hodge  with  him  and  also  Bruce 
Browning — Bruce,  who  was  so  fat,  lazy  and  good-na- 
tured. More  of  Merriwell's  chums  were  to  follow  later. 

As  had  often  happened  before,  Frank  had  gotten  into 
trouble  almost  at  the  start,  before  he  even  arrived  at  Far- 
dale.  On  the  train  he  had  met  another  former  pupil  at 
Fardale,  Rupert  Reynolds.  Rupert  was  making  life  a 
burden  to  a  girl  on  the  train  named  May  Blossom.  Frank 
had  interfered,  and  in  the  end  had  had  a  bitter  quarrel 
with  Reynolds. 

Reynolds  could  not  forgive,  and  he  hired  a  prize-fighter 
named  Spike  McKay  to  attack  Frank.  There  was  a  fight 
at  the  railroad  station,  and  our  hero  came  in  on  top  by 
breaking  McKay's  wrist. 

Frank  had  had  considerable  sport  at  the  academy  with 
two  of  the  professors,  Gunn  and  Jenks.  He  had  been 
almost  caught  and  had  smoothed  over  matters  with  diffi- 
culty. He  was  glad  when  it  was  announced  that  the  acad- 
emy cadets  would  go  out  for  their  annual  encampment. 

As  old  pupils,  Frank  and  Bart  were  asked  to  go  with 
the  cadets,  and  they  begged  that  Bruce  Browning  might 
also  be  included  in  the  arrangement.  As  Frank  had 
money,  and  was  willing  to  pay  liberally,  matters  were 


An  Insult  in  Camp.  9 

easily  arranged,  and  now  we  find  them  in  camp  as  al- 
ready described. 

As  the  Yale  lads  were  walking  along,  Bart  suddenly 
exclaimed : 

"Hello !    There  is  a  particular  friend  of  ours,  Merry." 

"Where?"  asked  Frank. 

"Over  there  with  Casper  Somers  and  those  cadets  in 
front  of  the  corner  tent." 

"Eh?      A    friend?"    grunted    Browning.      "Why,    it 

"Rupert  Reynolds,"  said  Frank.  "Yes,  he  is  a  par- 
ticular friend — nit !" 

"How  does  he  happen  to  be  here  in  camp?"  asked 
Bruce. 

"He  was  a  cadet  here  once,  and  so  he  did  not  have 
much  trouble  in  obtaining  admission." 

"I  wonder  why  he  is  talking  to  Somers  like  that?" 
speculated  Hodge.  "Those  fellows  with  Somers  are  his 
particular  chums.  I  believe  something  is  in  the  wind." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"I  don't  know  just  what  I  mean,"  confessed  Bart; 
"but  I  do  know  I  don't  like  the  appearance  of  Cadet  Corp. 
Somers.  -He  strikes  me  like  a  sneak." 

"He  has  treated  us  very  civilly." 

"Because  it  was  necessary,  but  I  think  he  is  envious  of 
you,  Merry.  I've  heard  that  he  has  tried  to  be  popular 
here,  but  has  failed.  He  is  envious  because  you  won  such 
popularity  when  you  were  a  cadet." 

"Nonsense!"  laughed  Frank.  "That  would  be  very 
foolish,  as  I  am  no  longer  a  cadet  here.  Don't  try  to  make 
Corp.  Somers  out  a  fool,  old  man." 

"Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  say  anything  more  about  it,"  said 
Bart,  rather  sulkily;  "but  I  think  you  will  find  him  out. 
Look — see  how  quick  those  fellows  stopped  talking  I  They 
saw  us  coming." 


io  An  Insult  in  Camp. 

It  was  true  that  the  group  had  ceased  to  talk  and  were 
watching  the  three  Yale  lads.  There  was  a  sneer  on  the 
face  of  Rupert  Reynolds,  and,  as  Frank  and  his  friends 
came  near,  Rupert  was  heard  to  say: 

"Think  of  the  crust!  Just  because  two  of  them  have 
been  cadets  here,  they  come  back  and  hang  around,  so 
Old  Gunn  is  forced  to  provide  them  with  quarters,  even 
though  it  is  against  the  rules  of  the  academy.  Such  a 
thing  would  not  be  tolerated  in  any  other  military  school 
in  the  country.  It's  a  disgrace  and  an  outrage." 

"Well,  hang  his  insolence!"  cried  Hodge,  furiously. 
"I'll  drive  his  words  down  his  throat!" 

With  clinched  hands,  he  would  have  rushed  at  Rey- 
nolds, but  Frank  caught  him  and  stopped  him,  saying 
quietly  and  firmly: 

"Steady,  Hodge!  It  won't  do.  Remember  where  we 
are.  If  we  were  to  get  into  a  row  here,  we'd  be  turned  out 
of  camp  in  disgrace." 

"That's  right,"  panted  Bart;  "but  I'd  give  ten  dollars 
to  punch  him!" 

Frank  stepped  forward  and  faced  Rupert,  speaking 
calmly  and  distinctly : 

"I  presume,  Mr.  Reynolds,  your  sneering  and  insolent 
remarks  were  intended  for  our  ears.  You  chose  your 
opportunity  to  utter  them  when  you  knew  you  were  safe, 
as  we  would  not  dare  give  you  the  thrashing  here  that  you 
deserve.  That  was  very  brave  of  you !  However,  the  in- 
sult will  not  be  forgotten." 

"That's  all  right!"  snarled  Rupert,  his  face  black  and 
his  voice  quivering  with  passion.  "You  think  you  can 
frighten  me  because  you  are  three  to  my  one,  but  you  are 
mistaken.  You  will  find  I  have  plenty  of  friends.  I  am 
not  afraid  of  any  one  of  you,  or  the  whole  of  you  '" 

Browning  yawned  in  a  tired  fashion. 


An  Insult  in  Camp.  n 

"Don't  talk  to  him,  Merry,"  he  said,  wearily.  "He 
makes  me  sick.  He  snaps  like  a  puppy  dog,  and  he  has 
just  about  as  much  courage." 

Then  the  three  Yale  lads  strolled  on,  leaving  Rupert 
to  fume  and  vow  to  make  them  "sorry." 


CHAPTER  II. 
REYNOLDS'  LITTLE  GAME. 

Reynolds  made  a  movement  as  if  he  would  rush  after 
Merriwell  and  his  companions,  but  Casper  Somers  caught 
his  arm  and  restrained  him,  saying  sharply : 

"Stop !    You  can't  do  that  here !" 

"Yes,  I  can!"  grated  the  furious  fellow.  "I  am  not  a 
cadet." 

"But  I  am,  and  you  are  here  by  means  of  a  permit  to 
see  me.  Do  you  want  to  get  me  into  trouble  ?" 

"No." 

"Then  let  up.  There  is  plenty  of  time  if  you  want  to 
get  at  Frank  Merriwell.  You  say  you  will  do  him  up. 
That's  all  right,  but  you  can't  do  it  here." 

Rupert  cooled  down  a  little  and  looked  at  Casper.  What 
he  read  in  the  face  of  the  cadet  quieted  him  still  more,  and 
he  forced  a  strained  laugh. 

"What  you  say  goes,  old  man,"  he  declared.  "I'll  wait 
for  another  opportunity.  It's  not  likely  I'd  be  given  a  fair 
show,  anyhow,  for  they  are  three  to  one,  and,  if  I  have 
any  friends  in  camp,  my  friends  could  not  take  sides 
with  me." 

"That  is  sense,"  said  Casper.  "Go  on  with  what  you 
were  telling  us  when  those  chaps  came  along." 

"You  say  you  heard  him  making  sport  of  the  school 
in  town?"  questioned  Rob  Warren,  one  of  the  cadets  in 
the  small  group. 

"Yes,"  nodded  Somers.  "He  was  comparing  the  acad- 
emy here  with  other  military  schools.  He  said  the  cadets 
here  were  a  lot  of  dunces,  who  were  too  thick-witted  to 
learn  anything,  or  were  young  ruffians  who  could  not  be 


Reynolds'  Little  Game.  \j 

handled  at  home  and  were  sent  here  by  the  parents  who 
wished  to  get  rid  of  them  for  a  time." 

"But  he  was  a  cadet  here  himself  once,"  said  another 
of  the  group. 

"He  was  laughing  about  that,  but  he  boasted  that  he 
had  not  remained  here  four  years." 

"Why  is  he  here  now?" 

"To  have  sport  at  your  expense.  Hasn't  he  been  up 
to  any  of  his  practical  jokes?" 

"Oh,  yes,  he  raised  the  old  Nick  with  the  professors  the 
very  first  day  he  was  here  and  came  near  getting  Jenks 
fired." 

"Anything  else?" 

"Sure.  He  has  been  full  of  pranks.  He  has  made  sport 
for  the  entire  academy." 

"Without  being  caught  at  it,  I'll  wager." 

"Usually  he  has  seemed  to  be  the  one  to  straighten, 
matters  out  after  they  were  in  a  ridiculous  muddle." 

"That's  it !"  cried  Rupert.  "It's  just  like  him.  He  lets 
all  the  blame  fall  on  somebody  else,  while  he  pretends  to 
be  the  peacemaker.  That's  the  kind  of  a  sneak  Frank 
Merciwell  is.  If  you  want  such  a  fellow  among  you,  why 
keep  him  here  and  hang  around  him,  and  show  him  respect 
and  friendship;  but  I'll  guarantee  that  he  will  get  you 
into  scrapes  enough.  I'll  guarantee  that  more  than  one 
of  you  will  be  expelled  if  you  have  anything  to  do  with 
his  pranks  and  jokes,  as  he  calls  them,  while  he  will  not 
be  suspected.  He  used  to  have  a  way  of  getting  the  best 
of  fellows  who  did  not  bow  down  and  worship  him.  He 
pretended  not  to  hold  a  grudge  against  anybody,  no  matter 
what  they  did  to  him,  but  he  disgraced  a  dozen  fellows 
in  school  and  caused  the  expulsion  of  several  who  were 
entirely  innocent  of  any  wrongdoing.  I  know  this  is  true. 
It  may  seem  surprising  that  a  fellow  like  him  could  be  so 
popular,  but  he  always  had  a  slick  way  of  turning  the 


14  Reynolds'  Little  Game. 

blame  off  onto  somebody  else  when  he  did  anything 
against  the  rules,  and  then  he  would  pretend  to  be  very 
sorry — and  all  that  kind  of  rot.  He  fooled  almost  every- 
body." 

It  was  plain  that  some  of  the  cadets  believed,  while 
others  could  not  think  it  possible  that  a  fellow  so  popular 
as  Frank  Merriwell  could  have  done  such  things.  Rupert 
was  working  to  injure  Merry,  and  he  made  an  effort  to 
appear  honest  and  sincere  in  everything  he  said. 

"I  would  not  trouble  myself  to  come  here  and  tell  you 
this  if  it  wasn't  that  I  have  a  love  for  the  old  academy, 
and  I  hate  to  see  any  of  the  fellows  here  get  into  trouble 
through  friendship  for  Merriwell.  He  was  never  able 
to  harm  me  while  I  was  a  cadet  here,  but  I  know  and  can 
prove  that  he  disgraced  others." 

"What  others?"  asked  Rob  Warren.  "Name  some  of 
them." 

"Leslie  Gage  was  one.  Gage  beat  Merriwell  at  poker 
and  did  it  honestly.  That  made  Merriwell  furious,  al- 
though he  pretended  to  joke  over  it.  He  swore  he  would 
fix  Gage,  and  he  did.  He  put  up  a  job  that  made  it  seem 
that  Gage  cheated  at  cards,  and  Leslie,  poor  fellow,  was 
disgraced  and  heartbroken.  I  have  heard  that  he  went 
crazy  after  leaving  Fardale." 

"Do  you  know  he  did  not  cheat?"  asked  Somers. 

"Yes." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"One  of  the  fellows  who  stood  in  with  Merriwell  and 
helped  carry  out  the  trick  told  of  it  afterward — boasted 
of  it  after  he  and  Merriwell  left  Fardale." 

"Who  was  that  fellow?" 

"Bart  Hodge." 

"How  was  the  trick  done?" 

"Hodge  marked  the  cards,  and  Gage  was  accused  of 
doing  that.  Hodge  reached  under  the  table  at  a  time 


Reynolds'  Little  Game.  15 

when  no  one  was  observing  him,  and  fixed  a  table  'hold- 
out' directly  in  front  of  Leslie.  There  were  four  cards 
in  the  hold-out.  When  Gage  got  a  big  hand  and  was  rak- 
ing off  the  pot,  Merriwell  jumped  on  him,  showed  the 
cards  were  marked  and  exposed  the  hold-out.  Gage  pro- 
tested his  innocence,  but  he  did  not  have  a  show.  He 
was  forced  to  leave  the  academy." 

"Would  Hodge  do  such  a  thing  as  that?"  asked  War- 
ren. 

"Would  he?  He'd  do  anything  Merriwell  told  him  to 
do.  Look  up  his  record.  You  will  find  that  when  he  en- 
tered the  academy  he  was  scorned  and  despised  by  every- 
body, Merriwell  included.  He  was  into  all  kinds  of  mean 
and  dirty  games.  He  tried  to  ruin  Merriwell  at  the  start, 
but  after  a  time  they  patched  it  up  and  became  friends. 
Merriwell  found  he  could  use  Hodge  for  his  dirty  work, 
and  Hodge  found  he  was  so  unpopular  that  he  must  do 
something  to  gain  standing.  As  Merriwell  was  popular, 
Hodge  saw  an  opportunity  to  get  on  all  right  by  being 
friendly  with  him.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  Merriwell,  Hodge 
would  have  been  driven  out  of  the  school  by  the  cadets. 
As  it  was,  no  one  understood  how  it  happened  that  they, 
who  had  been  such  bitter  enemies,  became  such  close 
friends  of  a  sudden.  When  he  had  left  Fardale,  Hodge  let 
the  cat  out  of  the  bag  by  talking  too  much.  He  showed 
how  he  had  assisted  Merriwell  by  doing  his  dirty  work,  and 
Merriwell  had  aided  him  by  giving  him  a  standing  in  the 
school." 

The  cadets  looked  from  one  to  another.  Was  it  possible 
that  Frank  Merriwell,  of  whom  they  had  heard  so  much 
and  always  in  praise,  was  such  a  treacherous  scoundrel  ? 

"If  this  is  true,"  said  Bob  Warren,  "we  don't  want  this 
fellow  Merriwell  here  in  camp." 

"Nor  his  stool-pigeon,  Hodge !"  cried  Casper  Somers. 

"I  should  think  you  might  see  it  is  truel"  exclaimed 


1 6  Reynolds'  Little  Game. 

Rupert.  "Has  he  been  caught  in  any  of  his  tricks  since 
he  came  here  this  time  ?" 

"No." 

"You  bet  not !  Leslie  Gage  was  not  the  only  fellow 
who  got  it  in  the  neck  because  he  did  not  play  the  syco- 
phant to  Merriwell ;  Wat  Snell  was  another.  Snell  tried 
to  be  independent  and  not  toady  to  Merriwell.  That 
made  Merriwell  angry,  and  he  laid  a  plot  that  put  Wat 
in  disgrace.  He  was  full  of  those  dirty  tricks.  Look  up 
his  record,  and  you  will  find  he  triumphed  over  everybody 
who  did  not  knuckle  down  to  him.  If  you  are  stuck  on 
that  sort  of  a  fellow  and  wish  to  have  him  here  and  do 
him  honor,  I  am  not  going  to  say  another  word.  I  have 
had  my  say,  now  you  can  do  as  you  like.  That's  all." 

He  saw  his  words  had  made  the  impression  he  desired, 
and  now  he  turned  to  walk  away.  Somers  walked  aside 
with  him. 

"Is  this  stuff  you  have  told  about  Merriwell  on  the 
level?"  asked  the  cadet. 

"You  bet  it  is !"  nodded  Rupert. 

"I  thought  perhaps " 

"You  thought  I  was  trying  to  do  Merriwell  because  I 
dislike  him  ?" 

"Well,  I  didn't  know." 

"You  were  wrong.  I  do  hate  him,  else  I  would  not 
have  said  a  word  about  him,  but  all  I  told  you  of  him  is 
true.  He  seeks  power,  and  he  will  not  tolerate  anything 
like  independence  in  anybody  he  thinks  should  bow  down 
to  him.  He  is  slick  and  takes  pains  not  to  get  into  trouble 
himself,  but  he  gets  somebody  else  to  do  his  dirty  work." 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Somers,  slowly,  "I  have  disliked 
him  all  along?" 

"I  heard  you  say  you  were  not  stuck  on  him.  That's 
how  I  happened  to  come  to  you  and  tell  you  the  kind  of  a 
fellow  he  really  is." 


Reynolds'  Little  Game.  17 

"It  made  me  sore  on  him  before  I  ever  saw  him  to  hear 
the  fellows  praising  him,"  declared  Casper.  "You  know 
I  have  been  rather  popular  here,  but " 

He  stopped  suddenly,  as  if  fearing  he  was  saying  too 
much. 

"I  know,"  nodded  Rupert.  "I  heard  of  your  popu- 
larity." 

This  was  true,  and  Reynolds  had  fancied  he  saw  an  op- 
portunity to  arouse  Somers  against  Frank  Merriwell.  He 
had  improved  that  opportunity  to  the  best  of  his  judg- 
ment. 

Rupert  could  read  human  nature  well  enough  to  learn 
without  being  told  that  Casper  was  envious  of  Frank. 
He  believed  he  could  arouse  the  cadet  corporal  against 
Merry.  Then  if  Somers  were  to  expose  some  of  Merri- 
well's  pranks  to  the  proper  authorities,  the  Yale  lads 
might  be  politely  requested  to  pack  up  and  get  out  of  the 
camp.  That  would  give  Reynolds  a  chance  to  sneer  at 
them. 

"Of  course,  if  Merriwell  is  such  a  fine  fellow,  as  almost 
everybody  says  he  is,  I  am  going  to  keep  still,"  said  Cas- 
per; "but  if  he  is  a  hypocrite  and  a  sneak,  I  am  looking 
for  a  good  opportunity  to  show  him  up." 

"If  you  keep  your  eyes  open,  you'll  find  the  opportunity 
all  right.  When  it  comes,  poke  it  to  him." 

"I  will." 

"In  the  meantime,  I  may  get  a  dab  at  him.  He'll  find 
he  stirred  up  the  wrong  chap  when  he  meddled  with  my 
business  and  broke  the  wrist  of  my  friend,  McKay." 

"How  is  McKay?" 

"Doing  as  well  as  possible,  poor  fellow !  He  swears  he 
will  eat  Merriwell  when  his  wrist  gets  well." 

"This  Merriwell  is  a  terrible  fighter.  You  had  better 
let  him  alone.  A  fellow  who  can  break  the  wrist  of  a 
prize-fighter  like  Spike  McKay  is  dangerous." 


i8  Reynolds'  Little  Game. 

"Rot!    McKay  says  it  was  an  accident." 

"But  I  have  heard  that  it  was  a  trick  with  which  Merri- 
\vell  is  perfectly  familiar." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yes.  He  says  he  did  not  want  to  do  it,  but  McKay 
was  a  professional  pugilist  and  h1 .  was  forced  to  resort  to 
some  such  trick  or  be  knocked  out." 

"I'll  have  to  tell  Spike  of  this.  It  will  make  him  feel 
real  kind  toward  Frank  Merriwell!" 

After  a  few  more  words,  Rupert  left  Casper  and  has- 
tened out  of  the  camp.  On  his  way  he  passed  the  Yale 
tent,  and  saw  the  three  college  lads  inside,  chatting  and 
laughing. 

"Oh,  I  hate  you  all !"  he  muttered.  "And  I  am  going 
to  make  it  warm  for  you  while  you  stay  in  Fardale." 


CHAPTER  III. 

ON   THE   PARADE  GROUND. 

"Reynolds  is  up  to  something,"  declared  Hodge,  as  the 
three  Yale  lads  continued  their  stroll. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Frank. 

"He  is  plotting  something.  That's  how  he  happened  to 
be  with  Somers." 

"You  do  not  like  Cadet  Somers.  What  have  you  against 
him?" 

"I  can't  tell  just  why  I  don't  like  him,  but  I  did  take 
a  dislike  to  him  instantly  the  first  time  I  saw  him.  I 
think  he  hates  you,  Merry." 

"Hates  me?"  cried  Frank,  astonished. 

"Yes." 

"Why?" 

"Well,  you  are  the  popular  man  in  camp  just  now,  and 
he  doesn't  like  that.  He  has  been  very  popular,  and  it 
galls  him  to  know  all  the  cadets  are  talking  about  you." 

"I  have  seen  no  signs  of  this." 

"Perhaps  not." 

"Have  you  noticed  anything  of  the  sort,  Browning?" 
asked  Merry. 

"No,"  yawned  Bruce,  wearily.  "I  haven't  been  looking 
for  anything  of  the  sort." 

"I  have  seen  it,"  hotly  declared  Bart ;  "and  it  has  made 
me  bo:1!  I  have  felt  all  along  that  he  would  like  to  get 
in  a  foul  blow  at  Merry.  Now,  after  seeing  him  with 
Reynolds,  I  am  sure  I  am  right.  Take  my  advice,  Frank, 
and  look  out  for  Casper  Somers." 

"All  right,"  smiled  Frank;  "but  I  think  you'll  find  it 
all  folly.  I  don't  believe  Somers  will  bother  me," 


20  On  the  Parade  Ground. 

Finally  they  returned  to  their  tent,  where  they  were 
when  Rupert  passed  on  his  way  out  of  the  camp. 

"There  he  goes !"  muttered  Hodge.  "I've  had  one  crack 
at  him,  but  I'd  like  to  get  another." 

Frank  laughed,  and  Rupert  turned  and  scowled  blackly 
toward  the  tent. 

"If  he  fools  round  May  Blossom  any  more  I'm  going  to 
give  it  to  him !"  declared  Bart.  "He  must  let  her  alone." 

"Huah !"  grunted  Browning.  "Didn't  know  you  chaps 
were  going  to  be  fooling  round  the  girls  half  your  time 
after  coming  here.  Here's  Hodge,  he's  never  seemed  to 
worry  much  about  the  girls,  but  last  night  I  heard  him 
making  this  sound  in  his  sleep." 

Bruce  imitated  the  sound  of  kissing  and  repeated  it 
several  times. 

"After  he'd  done  it  fifteen  or  twenty  times  I  was  get- 
ting tired  and  going  to  kick  him,  when,  of  a  sudden,  he 
took  to  talking.  I  didn't  catch  just  what  he  said,  but  I 
did  hear  him  say  'dear,'  'sweet,'  'May,'  and " 

Bart  leaped  up,  his  face  crimson. 

"You  are  lying,  you  big  villain !"  he  exclaimed. 

"I'll  swear " 

"I  don't  care !  Never  talked  in  my  sleep  in  all  my  life. 
Now,  you  shut  up !  If  you  go  to  telling  such  stuff  about 
me  I'll  murder  you !" 

Browning  chuckled  heartily,  not  at  all  alarmed  by  Bart's 
threat,  while  Frank  smiled,  well  knowing  that  the  big  fel- 
low had  touched  Hodge  on  a  tender  spot,  for  the  latter 
was  beginning  to  show  a  strong  liking  for  May  Blossom. 

"That  name  Blossom  must  have  some  attraction  for 
him,"  said  Frank.  "You  know  he  was  rather  fond  of  Sila 
Blossom's  sister,  Bessie,  while  we  were  in  Philadelphia 
last  year,  and " 

"That  will  do,  Frank  1"  interrupted  Bart.     '4Even  you 


On  the  Parade  Ground.  21 

can  carry  this  thing  too  far!  Reynolds  has  put  me  in 
an  ugly  mood,  so  don't  brad  me  up  any  more." 

Bart  could  not  endure  jollying,  so  Frank  let  up  on  him. 
A  little  later  they  all  went  out  to  the  parade  ground  to 
watch  the  cadets  drill. 

It  was  the  first  drill  after  pitching  camp.  Lieut.  Gor- 
don, the  military  instructor  of  the  academy,  was  watching 
it  from  a  distance,  but  the  cadet  officers  were  taking  full 
charge  of  the  evolutions. 

The  young  cadets  looked  very  trim  and  soldier-like  in 
the  neat,  well-fitting  uniforms,  and  they  passed  through  the 
evolutions  with  an  accuracy  and  precision  of  movement 
that  showed  them  to  be  well  drilled  for  lads  of  their  age. 
Of  course,  a  real  West  Pointer  would  have  found  fault 
with  them,  but  Frank  and  Bart,  who  had  been  cadets  there, 
were  pleased,  and  Bruce  declared  it  first-class. 

While  the  three  Yale  lads  were  watching  the  drill,  of  a 
sudden  Bart  caught  hold  of  Frank's  arm,  exclaiming: 

"Look  here !    Who  is  this  coming  now  ?" 

Down  the  road  from  the  direction  of  Farmer  Snodd's 
place  came  a  small  jackass  with  very  long  ears.  The  ani- 
mal was  covering  ground  as  fast  as  was  possible  with  its 
short  legs.  On  its  back  was  perched  a  boy,  who  was  urg- 
ing it  on  with  a  stick.  The  boy  was  dressed  in  a  cadet 
uniform,  which  seemed  several  sizes  too  small  for  him, 
as  his  arms  were  out  of  the  sleeves  of  the  jacket  halfway 
to  his  elbows,  and  his  trousers  were  too  short  by  several 
inches.  Even  the  cap  that  was  perched  on  his  head  was 
too  small. 

"Some  fellow  has  been  off  on  French  leave,"  said 
Bruce,  "and  he  is  hurrying  to  get  back." 

But  there  was  something  familiar  in  the  appearance  of 
the  boy  on  the  back  of  the  little  jackass.  Frank  and  Bart 
stared  at  him  in  amazement.  The  cadet  officers  turned  to 


22  On  the  Parade  Ground. 

look  at  him  as  he  came  straight  toward  the  maneuvering 
line. 

The  cadets  remained  perfectly  still  and  motionless,  not 
one  of  them  turning  his  head  or  his  eyes  from  the  front, 
although  some  of  them  must  have  been  consumed  with 
curiosity  to  know  what  was  happening. 

Straight  toward  the  line  of  cadets  plunged  the  little 
jackass,  bearing  on  its  back  the  odd-looking  boy.  As  boy 
and  beast  came  nearer,  the  former  stopped  urging  it  for- 
ward and  suddenly  began  to  saw  on  the  reins. 

But  the  jackass  appeared  to  have  been  goaded  to  des- 
peration, for  it  kept  right  on,  regardless  of  the  efforts  of 
its  rider.  The  harder  the  boy  yanked  and  pulled  and 
sawed,  the  faster  the  little  animal  seemed  to  run. 

The  boy  on  the  back  of  the  jackass  began  to  get  scared. 
He  shouted  at  the  beast  to  stop,  and  then,  seeing  all  his 
efforts  were  useless,  he  howled  at  the  cadets : 

"Mine  Gott  in  Himmel!  Get  der  way  out  for  me,  or 
you  will  run  me  ofer!  Look  oudt!  Somepody  stop  me 
pefore  I  run  away  mit  dhis  shackmules !  Hellup !  hellup !" 

"It's  Hans!" 

"Great  Scott  !" 

"That  Dutch  lunatic !" 

These  exclamations  came  from  Frank,  Bart  and  Bruce ; 
but  almost  immediately  Frank  said : 

"Hans — is  it  possible  ?" 

"Don't  look  like  Hans,"  burst  from  Hodge.  "Not  fat 
enough." 

"Not  fat  at  all,"  said  Frank.    "It  can't  be " 

Again  the  boy  on  the  back  of  the  charging  jackass 
screamed : 

"Stop  myself!    Safe  me  pefore  you  vas  a  dead  man !" 

Straight  at  the  line  of  cadets  went  the  animal  that  bore 
the  boy,  but  not  a  cadet  moved.  There  did  not  seem  to 
be  so  much  as  the  twinkle  of  an  eyelash.  As  an  exhibition 


On  the  Parade  Ground.  23 

of  nerve  and  discipline  it  was  surprising  in  a  lot  of  harum- 
scarum  youngsters  such  as  attended  Fardale  Academy. 

Frank  started  to  leap  forward  with  the  intention  of 
stopping  the  runaway  jackass,  but  of  a  sudden  the  little 
animal  stopped  of  its  own  accord,  and  its  rider  went  sailing 
over  its  head,  striking  on  his  stomach  on  the  ground. 

"It  is  Hans !"  came  from  Hodge,  who  saw  him  fairly. 

Yes,  it  was  Hans  Dunnerwust,  a  Dutch  boy,  who  had 
once  been  a  pupil  at  Fardale  with  Frank,  and  who  had 
accompanied  them  on  the  trip  across  the  continent  a  year 
before.  He  was  changed  in  a  most  astonishing  manner, 
having  lost  so  much  flesh  that  he  looked  thin  and  emaci- 
ated. 

The  moment  he  struck  the  ground  he  turned  his  head 
to  look  at  the  jackass.  At  the  same  instant  the  little  ani- 
mal wheeled  and  let  its  heels  fly  in  the  direction  of  the 
head  of  its  late  rider. 

The  Dutch  boy  dodged. 

"Hee-haw !  hee-haw !"  burst  from  the  jackass,  as  if  the 
small  animal  were  laughing. 

Twinkle,  twinkle  went  its  heels,  as  it  continued  to 
kick  with  surprising  vigor. 

"Hellup!"  howled  Hans.  "I  peen  cool  enough  alretty 
if  dot  shackmules  don'd  fan  me  his  heels  mit  some  more! 
Somepody  took  me  avay  pefore  he  gets  hurt!" 

It  was  a  comical  spectacle,  and  the  three  Yale  lads 
laughed  heartily. 

"Vot  makes  me  laugh  ad  you?"  cried  Hans,  angrily. 
"You  don'd  like  dot  uf  you  peen  in  mein  places !  I  vas  in 
danger  uf  your  life !" 

"Hee-haw !  hee-haw !"  brayed  the  jackass. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !  und  dot  shackmules  peen  laughin* 
too  alretty  yet!"  came  from  the  bewildered  Dutch  boy. 
"Stop  him  kickin'  from !  Somepody  shoot  tr»e  quick  und 
safe  mein  lifel" 


24  On  the  Parade  Ground. 

Frank  approached  the  jackass,  but  the  little  animal  lay 
back  its  long  ears,  showed  its  teeth  and  glared  at  him  sav- 
agely, so  he  stopped,  still  laughing,  saying: 

"Now  is  your  time  to  get  out  of  the  way,  Hans.  Crawl, 
crawl." 

The  boy  on  the  ground  took  the  advice  and  crept  swiftly 
away  from  the  vicinity  of  the  animal's  heels. 

Cadet  Corp.  Somers,  flushed  with  anger,  came  up, 
hurriedly. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this  disgraceful  scene?"  he 
harshly  demanded.  "Who  is  this  intruder?" 

He  pointed  at  Hans,  who  had  arisen  to  his  feet.  Dun- 
nerwust  made  a  military  salute,  and  replied : 

"I  peen  a  gadet  dot  academy  to  once  a  time  on,  und 
don'd  you  forgot  myself." 

"You  a  cadet  here?"  came  incredulously  from  Somers. 
"Ridiculous  1" 

"I  told  you  der  truth,  und  you  can  profe  it." 

"This  seems  to  be  one  of  your  jokes,  Mr.  Merriwell," 
said  Somers.  "It  shall  be  investigated,  sir." 

"Come  avhay  off!"  cried  Hans.  "Dhis  don'd  peen 
no  shoke!  You  vos  mistooken  yourseluf.  I  shust 
come  here  to  visit  der  academy,  und  I  make  der  ride 
from  der  railroadt  sdation  like  Bill  Sheridan  took  dot 
ride  from  Vinchester.  Only  ven  I  got  retty  to  stop,  der 
shackmules  kept  on,  und  ven  I  pelief  he  never  vould  sdop, 
he  sdop  und  I  kept  on.  Yah,  dot  peen  der  vay  mit  id. 
Now  you  understand  him,  maybe." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  understand  it !"  came  harshly  from  Somers. 
"I  consider  it  a  very  poor  joke.  It  was  an  attempt  to  break 
up  the  drill  and  make  what  Mr.  Merriwell  calls  fun,  I  pre- 
sume. I  trust  Lieut.  Gordon  witnessed  it  all.  We'll  see 
if  we  can't  put  an  end  to  these  affairs." 

"Corp.  Somers,"  said  Frank,  with  a  graceful  salute,  "I 


On  the  Parade  Ground.  25 

assure  you,  sir,  you  are  entirely  mistaken.  I  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Dunnerwust,  and " 

"An  investigation  will  determine  the  truth  of  your 
words,  sir,"  said  Somers,  with  a  sneer.  "It  may  likewise 
throw  a  little  light  on  several  things  that  have  happened 
since  your  arrival  on  a  visit  to  the  academy." 

Frank  understood  that  this  was  a  threat  to  expose  him 
in  his  practical  jokes  and  disgrace  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
authorities,  so  that  he  would  be  requested  to  cut  his  visit 
short.  He  remembered  the  words  of  Hodge  respecting 
Somers,  remembered  that  Somers  had  been  talking  with 
Rupert  Reynolds,  and  remembered  that  Reynolds  had  said 
that  he  had  plenty  of  friends. 

Casper  Somers  was  one  of  Reynold's  friends.  Frank 
became  convinced  of  that  in  a  moment.  He  saw  that 
he  had  aroused  the  antagonism  of  the  cadet  corporal,  and 
that  Somers  was  a  fellow  who,  having  declared  himself, 
might  become  dangerous  and  annoying. 

But  Merry  knew  that  he  stood  well  with  Lieut.  Gordan 
and  the  professors,  and  he  did  not  believe  Somers  would 
be  able  to  accomplish  his  purpose  easily.  So  he  smiled 
on  Casper  with  an  air  that  was  almost  pitying,  saying: 

"Very  well,  sir;  you  are  at  liberty  to  tell  whatever  you 
know,  but  I  warn  you  to  be  careful  not  to  make  an  error 
in  your  statements.  It  will  look  as  if  you  are  maliciously 
trying  to  hurt  me." 

Casper  turned  disdainfully  from  Frank  and  scowled  at 
Hans. 

"As  for  you,  sir!"  he  said,  "take  your  jackass  and 
get  off  the  parade  ground  as  soon  as  possible.  Then  there 
will  be  two  jackasses  less  here.  And  we  could  spare  three 
more." 

"Veil,  why  don'd  you  gone  along  yourseluf?"  inquired 
Hans,  with  an  innocent  air,  and  the  Yale  lads  smiled. 


26  On  the  Parade  Ground. 

Somers  looked  as  if  he  longed  to  punch  the  Dutch  lad, 
but  he  restrained  himself. 

Hans  approached  the  jackass.  The  animal  was  stand- 
ing with  its  head  down,  looking  very  mild  and  harmless. 

"Now,  don't  you  gone  to  tried  none  of  dot  funny  pusi- 
ness,"  advised  the  Dutch  boy,  as  he  warily  edged  up  to 
the  creature.  "Uf  you  do,  I  pet  you  zwei  tollars  I  kick 
uf  you  der  backing  out  der  first  time  you  got!" 

The  jackass  seemed  quite  docile,  permitting  Hans  to 
capture  it  and  lead  it  away. 

"Oh,  dese  peen  all  right,"  chuckled  Dunnerwust.  "I 
peen  goin'  to  took  der  shackmules  up  to  Misder  Snodd's, 
und  den  I  vill  come  pack  und  exblain  yourseluf.  Yawl 
Ta,  ta,  Vrankie.  You  don'd  had  dime  to  shook  hants  mit 
me  now,  but  you  vill  britty  soon  right  avay  queek." 

Away  he  went  with  the  jackass  following  him  meekly, 
like  a  clever  dog. 

Cadet  Corp.  Somers  watched  him  a  few  moments,  and 
then  turned  and  resumed  his  duties  in  carrying  out  the 
drill. 

"Come,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  smiling.  "We'll  walk  up 
the  road  toward  Snodd's,  and  meet  Hans  as  he  is  coming 
back.  I  think  we  have  seen  enough  of  this  drill." 

The  Yale  lads  left  the  parade  ground. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THREE  GIRLS  AT  SNODD'S. 

Bart  Hodge  was  literally  "seething"  with  anger. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Cadet  Corp.  Somers  now,  Merri- 
well?"  he  asked. 

"It  begins  to  look  as  if  you  were  right  about  the  fel- 
low," admitted  Frank. 

"Right!  Of  course  I  was!  He  thinks  he  has  an  op- 
portunity, and  now  he  will  try  to  injure  us,  the  puppy  1" 

"Oh,  what's  the  use  to  bother  about  him,"  yawned 
Bruce.  "All  he  can  do  won't  amount  to  anything." 

"Don't  be  so  sure  of  that.  It  will  be  just  like  him  to 
blow  on  us  for  any  innocent  pranks  we  may  have  been 
concerned  in.  What  if  he  should  tell  of  that  racket  be- 
tween Prof.  Gunn  and  Prof.  Jenks?" 

"What  can  he  tell?  He  can't  prove  that  Merry  had 
anything  to  do  with  that  affair  further  than  to  aid  Old 
Gunn  in  washing  the  ink  and  mucilage  off  his  face  and 
head  after  the  scrap  was  over." 

"It  is  known  well  enough  to  every  cadet  in  the  academy 
that  Frank  brought  the  racket  about  somehow." 

"But  they  don't  know  how,  and  they  can't  prove  any- 
thing, so  that  will  not  count.  Somers  will  have  to  peach 
about  something  else." 

"He'll  swear  this  business  a  short  time  ago  was  a  put- 
up  job  to  break  up  the  parade." 

"Let  him  prove  it." 

Frank  nodded. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "let  him  prove  it,  if  he  makes  such  a 
charge.  We  did  not  know  Dunnerwust  was  coming,  and 
the  whole  thing  was  as  much  a  surprise  to  us  as  to  any- 


28  Three  Girls  at  Snodd's. 

body.  Oh,  I  don't  worry  about  Mr.  Somers.  He  is  quite 
harmless." 

"You  have  been  harmed  lots  of  times  by  fellows  you 
considered  harmless,  Merry,"  said  Hodge. 

"Well,  we  are  not  going  to  worry  over  anything  while 
we  are  in  Fardale.  We  came  here  for  sport,  and  sport 
is  what  we'll  have.  What  astonishes  me  is  this  sudden 
and  remarkable  appearance  of  Hans." 

"You  didn't  know  he  was  coming?" 

"No.  Haven't  heard  a  word  from  him.  He  must  have 
received  my  letter." 

"And  he  didn't  do  a  thing  but  appear  in  his  old  cadet 
uniform,"  said  Bart. 

"But  he  must  have  been  training  down,"  grunted  the 
Yale  man.  "Why,  he's  really  thin,  and  he  was  round  as 
a  pumpkin  the  last  time  we  saw  him." 

"I  believe  he  has  been  ill,"  said  Frank. 

Ahead  of  them  Hans  was  leading  the  little  jackass  up 
the  road.  He  was  hurrying  the  animal  as  much  as  possi- 
ble, and  was  not  looking  round.  It  was  his  object  to  get 
rid  of  the  creature  as  soon  as  possible  and  return  to  the 
camp. 

The  Yale  men  followed  slowly  after  leaving  the 
academy  grounds,  and  Hans  reached  Snodd's  far  in  ad- 
vance of  them. 

It  happened  that  Inza  Burrage,  Frank's  girl  friend,  and 
May  Blossom  were  visiting  Belinda  Snodd  that  day  by 
special  invitation.  Belinda  had  urged  them  to  come,  as 
her  father  and  mother  were  going  away  on  a  visit,  and 
they  could  have  a  jolly  time.  The  farmer's  daughter  was 
planning  a  surprise  party  for  the  Yale  lads,  who  took 
their  meals  at  Snodd's,  although  they  occupied  a  tent  in 
the  cadet  camp. 

In  the  years  since  the  boys  had  been  cadets  at  the 
academy  Belinda  had  developed  into  a  "bouncer,"  weigh- 


Three  Girls  at  Snodd's.  29 

ing  more  than  two  hundred  pounds.  Finding  that  Inza 
Burrage  was  in  town  and  that  Frank  Merriwell  still  seemed 
to  care  more  for  Inza  than  anyone  else,  and  Bart  was 
giving  much  attention  to  May  Blossom,  Belinda  resolved 
to  capture  the  affections  of  Bruce  Browning,  and  she 
straightway  began  to  lay  traps  and  snares  for  him,  making 
his  life  miserable. 

On  this  occasion  she  thought  it  would  be  "jolly"  to 
have  Inza  and  May  as  guests,  as  they  would  take  up  the 
attention  of  Frank  and  Bart  and  leave  Bruce  to  her. 

The  girls  did  not  arrive  during  the  forenoon,  much  to 
Belinda's  disappointment;  but  they  came  after  dinner, 
when  the  Yale  lads  had  returned  to  camp. 

"Landy  sakes !"  cried  the  farmer's  daughter,  as  she  em- 
braced and  kissed  them.  "I  don't  know  but  you  was  goin' 
to  disappoint  me.  Why  didn't  you  come  before  ?" 

"We  meant  to,"  said  Inza,  "but " 

"It's  too  bad!"  declared  Belinda.  "If  you'd  came  an 
hour  sooner  you'd  found  them  here." 

"Them?" 

"Who?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Merriwell,  Mr.  Hodge  and  Mr.  Browning. 
You  know  they  eat  here,  though  they  stop  down  to  the 
academy.  They're  the  only  boarders  we  have,  too.  Of 
course  they'll  be  back  to  supper." 

"And  we'll  stay  to  supper,  won't  we,  May?"  laughed 
Inza. 

"Yes,"  said  May,  blushing  prettily. 

"And  then  they  will  have  to  see  you  back  to  the  village 
in  the  evening,  and  I'll  go  along  to  fill  out  the  company," 
declared  Belinda.  "That's  going  to  be  just  perfectly 
lovely." 

"I'd  never  dare  go  to  the  village  alone  after  supper," 
said  May. 


30  Three  Girls  at  Snodd's. 

"No,  she  hardly  dared  come  here  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,"  said  Inza. 

"Goodness  me !"  cried  Belinda,  in  surprise.  "Why  was 
that?" 

"They  were  watching  us — those  horrid  fellows  who 
have  given  us  so  much  trouble,"  said  May. 

"Oh,  you  mean  that  Rupert  Reynolds  and  his  toady, 
Win  Harding?" 

"Yes.  We  started  to  come  before  dinner,  but  they 
followed  us  out  of  the  village,  and  we  cut  back  by  an- 
other street.  Somehow  they  knew  where  we  were  coming 
and  were  watching  for  us." 

"And  I  am  so  afraid  of  them !"  exclaimed  May. 

"But  I  am  not !"  declared  Inza,  proudly.  "Let  them 
touch  me — if  they  dare!" 

She  tossed  her  dark  head,  her  eyes  flashing  and  her  lips 
pressed  together.  Belinda  gasped,  for  never  before  had 
she  dreamed  that  Inza  was  so  handsome.  Now  she  began 
to  understand  how  it  was  that  this  girl  was  so  much  ad- 
mired by  Frank  Merriwell. 

"Well,  girls,"  said  Belinda,  "you  are  here  now,  and 
we'll  have  a  real  lovely  time  to-night.  Mr.  Merriwell 
plays  the  guitar  and  sings  the  best  songs.  He  knows  all 
the  latest  songs.  Mr.  Hodge  knows  the  college  songs, 
and  he  can  sing,  too." 

"How  about  Mr.  Browning?"  asked  Inza,  her  face 
changing  to  a  smile. 

"Him?"  said  Belinda,  hanging  her  head  and  looking 
confused.  "Oh,  he  don't  sing  much." 

"What  does  he  do?" 

"Oh,  he — he  sleeps.  He's  the  greatest  feller  to  sleep  I 
ever  saw." 

While  the  girls  were  chatting  May,  who  had  been  sitting 
by  the  window,  suddenly  sprang  up  with  a  cry  of  alarm, 


Three  Girls  at  Snodd's.  31 

her  face  turning  pale,  and  ran  into  the  middle  of  the 
room." 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  asked  Inza. 

"Out  there — in  front  of  the  house!"  gasped  May. 
"Don't— don't  go  near  the  window!  They'll  see  you!'* 

She  held  Inza  back,  but  Belinda  bounced  over  to  the 
window  and  looked  out. 

"Who  is  there?"  asked  Inza. 

"Rupert  Reynolds  and  Win  Harding !" 

"They  won't  get  in  here!"  declared  Belinda,  as  she 
bounded  out  of  the  room  and  hastened  to  lock  the  doors. 

From  behind  the  shades  the  girls  watched  Reynolds  and 
Harding  pass  the  house  and  go  down  the  road  toward  the 
academy.  Great  was  their  relief  when  the  young  rascals 
did  not  attempt  to  enter. 

"Perhaps  they  do  not  know  we  are  here,"  said  May, 
her  voice  unsteady.  "I  am  sure  they  would  have  stopped 
if  they  did." 

"Well,  we'd  tried  to  give  them  a  hot  reception  if  they 
had  stopped,"  said  Belinda,  with  her  hands  clinched  and 
resting  on  her  hips,  her  arms  akimbo. 

It  was  some  time  before  May  recovered  from  the  alarm, 
but  after  a  while  the  girls  forgot  the  two  lads  whom  they 
feared  so  much,  and  began  to  enjoy  themselves  talking  of 
old  times.  They  laughed  and  gossiped,  girl  fashion,  and 
were  happy. 

The  clatter  of  hoofs  attracted  their  attention,  and  they 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  boy  in  cadet  uniform  who  went 
tearing  down  the  road  astride  the  little  jackass,  but  none 
of  them  suspected  it  was  Hans  Dunnerwust,  whom  they 
all  knew. 

Back  of  the  house  were  some  tall  trees  and  a  hammock 
and  rustic  seat.  They  went  out  beneath  the  trees,  but 
barely  were  they  settled  there  when  they  were  startled  by 


32  Three  Girls  at  Snodd's. 

the  appearance  of  Reynolds  and  Harding,  who  coolly 
sauntered  round  the  corner,  lifted  their  hats  and  cried: 

"Hello,  girls!" 

May  started  to  her  feet  with  a  cry  of  alarm.  Inza  also 
sprang  up,  but  she  uttered  no  cry,  and  she  faced  Reynolds 
and  Harding  defiantly,  without  showing  fear. 

"Goodness'  gracious !"  gasped  Belinda.  "Here  they 
are !" 

"Don't  be  alarmed,  young  ladies,"  said  Reynolds,  com- 
ing forward  with  his  prettiest  smile.  "We  will  not  harm 
you." 

"Surely  not,"  declared  Harding.  "There  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  be  afraid  of  us." 

"Afraid  of  you !"  exclaimed  Inza,  scornfully.  "We  are 
not  afraid  of  such  creatures  as  you !" 

But  May  was  trembling,  and  her  face  was  pale.  Some- 
how Rupert  filled  her  with  terror. 

Belinda,  seeing  how  agitated  May  was,  sought  to  re- 
assure her. 

"They  won't  dare  touch  us.  There  are  three  of  us. 
They  may  annoy  us  some,  but  there  is  nothing  to  be 
afraid  of." 

"I  have  been  afraid  of  Rupert  Reynolds  ever  since  he 
came  upon  me  suddenly  one  night  and  grabbed  me,"  whis- 
pered May,  shrinking  close  to  the  farmer's  daughter.  "He 
is  so  strong  and  rough !" 

"If  he  puts  a  hand  on  you  here  he'll  get  something  he 
won't  like!"  came  stoutly  from  Belinda. 

Reynolds  and  his  Fardale  chum  put  on  their  prettiest 
manners. 

"It's  a  lovely  afternoon,  girls,"  said  Rupert.  "We 
thought  we  would  call  and  chat  with  you  a  while." 

"You're  not  welcome !"  flashed  Inza. 

"Really,  Miss  Spitfire,"  laughed  Rupert.  "Then  we  will 
make  ourselves  welcome." 


Three  Girls  at  Snodd's.  33 

"You  had  better  get  out !"  exclaimed  Belinda.  "If  you 
don't  I'll— I'll  call  pa." 

"Oh,  indeed  I"  came  tauntingly  from  Rupert.  "I  fear 
you  will  damage  your  voice  before  you  make  him  hear 
you." 

"That's  right,"  grinned  Harding.  "We  happen  to  know 
the  old  man  and  woman  are  not  at  home,  for  we  saw 
them  going  away." 

"Don't  call  my  pa  and  ma  'old  man  and  woman  !'  "  burst 
forth  Belinda.  "If  you  do —  if  you  do " 

"I  presume  you  will  do  something  very  desperate,  Miss 
Two  Hundred,"  came  roughly  from  the  lips  of  the  village 
boy.  "We're  not  here  to  see  you,  so  you  had  better 
close  up." 

"Fine  young  gentlemen,  aren't  they?"  said  Inza,  scorn- 
fully. "Their  language  shows  that." 

"Now,  don't  be  foolish,  girls,"  said  Reynolds,  trying  to 
calm  them.  "Sit  down  in  the  hammock  and  on  the  bench, 
and  we  will  chat  a  while.  You  do  not  know  us  very  well, 
and  that  is  why  you  fancy  you  do  not  like  us." 

"We  know  enough  of  you,"  declared  Inza. 

"Too  much !"  put  in  Belinda.  "Win  Harding  is  known 
to  everybody  in  Fardale.  He  is  a  leader  of  the  tough 
crowd  in  the  village,  and  if  his  father  hadn't  settled,  he'd 
gone  to  jail  for  breaking  into  Jim  Frost's  store  and  open- 
ing the  money  drawer.  That's  the  kind  of  a  fellow  he 
is,  and " 

"You  talk  too  much  for  your  health !"  snarled  Harding, 
stepping  toward  her  quickly. 

In  a  moment  Inza  stepped  before  the  farmer's  daughter, 
throwing  up  one  hand  with  a  gesture  of  command. 

"Stop  right  where  you  are,  sir !"  rang  out  her  clear  voice. 
"Don't  dare  touch  her!  If  you  do  not  like  to  hear  the 
truth  about  yourself,  you  had  better  go  away." 

"It  is  not  the  truth,  Miss  Burrage,"  declared  Harding, 


34  Three  Girls  at  Snodd's. 

who  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  Inza,  and  would  have 
given  almost  anything  to  stand  well  in  her  eyes.  "It's  a 
lie!  It  was  started  to  injure  me.  I  know  it  did  seem 
as  if  I  broke  into  old  Frost's  store,  but  why  should  I  do 
that  ?  My  father  is  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Fardale,  and 
I  always  have  plenty  of  money.  Look  here!" 

He  took  a  roll  of  bills  out  of  his  pocket  and  showed 
them  in  a  way  that  indicated  his  belief  that  the  girls  would 
think  more  of  him  if  they  were  aware  he  carried  so  much 
with  him. 

"I  always  have  plenty  of  money,"  he  went  on,  "and  I 
can  give  any  young  lady  a  good  time  if  I  want  to.  I 
can  buy  her  nice  presents,  take  her  to  drive  with  good 
teams,  and  do  lots  of  things.  After  you  get  to  know  me 
better,  you  will  like  me." 

"I  know  you  too  well  already.  The  fact  that  you  may 
have  a  pocketful  of  money  now  does  not  make  you  any 
more  attractive  in  my  eyes.  I  doubt  if  you  got  it  hon- 
estly." 

"They  say  he  plays  cards  and  cheats,"  put  in  Belinda, 
while  Harding  glared  at  her  as  if  longing  to  choke  her. 

"All  lies,"  he  asserted.  "Never  played  a  game  of  cards 
in  my  life.  Reynolds  knows  I  can't  tell  one  card  from 
another." 

Inza  laughed  scornfully. 

"Now  you  are  trying  to  make  yourself  out  too  good, 
sir,"  she  said.  "It  isn't  a  crime  to  play  cards." 

"That's  so,"  nodded  Reynolds,  "and  I  have  been  trying 
to  teach  Win  how  to  play  some  of  the  games.  I  never 
play  for  money,  but  I  do  enjoy  a  quiet  game  for  fun. 
What  say,  girls,  if  we  bring  out  a  table  here  under  the  trees 
and  have  a  game  of  euchre  ?" 

"No!  We  do  not  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
you!  If  you  will  not  go  away,  we  shall  go  into  the 
house." 


Three  Girls  at  Snodd's.  35 

"Let's  all  go  into  the  house,  then.  Old  Snodd  is 
away,  and  Belinda  can  bring  up  some  of  his  cider.  We'll 
pay  for  it.  I  have  heard  lots  about  his  cider,  and  I 
always  wanted  to  try  some." 

"You'll  always  want!"  snapped  Belinda.  "You  can't 
get  none,  so  get  out !" 

But  the  boys  were  not  to  be  driven  away  thus.  They 
were  determined  to  stay  and  seek  to  make  an  impression 
on  the  girls.  Reynolds  approached  May,  who  shrank 
closer  to  Belinda. 

"Miss  Blossom,"  he  said,  as  suavely  as  possible,  "I  am 
awfully  sorry  you  have  received  a  wrong  impression  of 
me.  It's  too  bad.  You  are  a  peach  of  a  girl,  and  I  al- 
ways was  dead  stuck  on  you.  If  you  will  sit  down  in  the 
hammock  and  talk  a  while  with  me,  I  think  you'll  find  I 
am  a  different  fellow  quite  from  what  you  thought.  Please 
do.  There  is  no  harm  in  it." 

"I  don't  want  to,"  said  May,  faintly. 

"She  isn't  dead  stuck  on  you,  if  you  are  on  her,"  said 
Belinda.  "All  she  asks  of  you  is  that  you  keep  your 
distance." 

"If  you  will  refrain  from  putting  in  your  oar  where 
it  does  not  belong,  Miss  Snodd,  I'll  be  much  obliged," 
said  Rupert,  his  face  flushing  with  anger. 

"Well,  I  won't  refrain — so  there!  Come  girls,  let's 
go  into  the  house  and  leave  them  out  here." 

She  started,  with  her  arm  about  May,  but  Rupert 
caught  hold  of  the  latter,  and  May  uttered  a  cry  of  pain 
and  fear. 

In  a  moment  Inza  flew  at  him,  and,  with  surprising 
strength,  snatched  his  hand  away,  pushing  him  back- 
ward. 

"You  coward!"  she  cried.  "This  is  the  kind  of  a 
gentleman  you  are!  Don't  dare  touch  her  again!" 


36  Three  Girls  at  Snodd's. 

Rupert  was  surprised,  for  all  that  he  knew  Inza  was  a 
girl  of  spirit  and  nerve.  He  turned  to  Harding,  saying: 

"I'm  glad  you  like  this  one  best!  I  shouldn't  fancy 
the  task  of  trying  to  tame  such  a  cat." 

The  girls  held  a  hurried  whispered  consultation,  but 
their  glances  toward  the  house  betrayed  their  plan. 

"Oh,  you  can't  run  in  and  shut  the  door  before  we  can 
follow!"  said  Harding,  as  he  blocked  the  way.  "It's  no 
use  to  try  that." 

"What  do  you  fancy  you  are  doing?"  demanded  Inza. 
"If  you  were  shrewd,  you  would  know  you  are  simply 
making  us  despise  you  all  the  more  by  your  conduct." 

"Never  mind.  You  run  away  from  us  all  the  time,  and 
now  we  have  you  where  you  can't  run  away,  so  we  are 
going  to  jolly  you  some,  if  nothing  else.  After  this  you 
can't  treat  us  any  worse  than  you  have  before." 

"Tell  you  what,  Rupe,"  said  Harding,  desperately, 
"let's  have  the  satisfaction  of  kissing  them,  anyway. 
Then  we  can  taunt  Merriwell  and  Hodge  about  it." 

"That's  right." 

"If  either  Mr.  Merriwell  or  Mr.  Hodge  were  here 
now,  you'd  sneak  away  like  the  cowards  you  are !"  flashed 
Inza. 

"Well,  neither  of  them  are  here,  and  let  me  tell  you 
they  will  have  their  troubles  before  they  leave  Fardale. 
They  are  not  the  only  pebbles  on  the  beach." 

"They  will  make  you  regret  it  if  you  do  not  leave  im- 
mediately, without  giving  us  any  further  trouble,"  said 
Inza. 

"Oh,  we've  been  watching  this  house  too  long  to  get 
an  opportunity  to  see  you  to  drive  us  away  like  that,"  said 
Harding.  "They  won't  be  here  for  two  hours  yet, 

and " 

^  "Meanwhile,  we'll  have  a  real  jolly  time,"  laughed  Rey- 


Three  Girls  at  Snodd's.  37 

nolds.  "Oh,  come  on,  girls,  and  sit  down.  Look  out  for 
her,  Harding!  I'll  take  care  of  this  one!" 

Then,  as  Win  Harding  kept  Inza  away,  Rupert  again 
seized  May. 

"Help!"  cried  May,  faintly,  struggling  in  his  arms. 

"Now,  I  will  have  that  kiss !"  cried  Rupert,  holding  her 
close  and  bending  to  press  his  lips  on  hers.  "No  one  can 
stop  me  now !" 

"Dot  peen  where  you  made  a  mistook  mit  yourseluf," 
exclaimed  a  voice,  and  then  Rupert  was  given  a  crack 
under  the  ear  that  made  him  see  stars. 

Hans  Dunnerwust  had  appeared  on  the  scene,  having  led 
the  little  jackass  round  the  corner  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  V. 

EGGS-CITEMENT. 

Belinda  caught  May  as  Rupert  released  her,  and  then 
Hans  swung  at  Reynolds  again,  but  missed  him  entirely, 
for  the  fellow  ducked  quickly. 

"Oh,  you  vos  a  dodger,  ain'd  id !"  shouted  Hans.  "Veil, 
der  next  dime  I  vos  goin'  to  hit  you  right  vere  I  missed 
you  dot  dime.  Yaw!" 

Then  Hans  attempted  to  sail  into  Rupert  in  a  business- 
like manner,  and  Reynolds  was  so  dazed  by  the  first  blow 
that  he  cried  out  to  his  companion: 

"Here,  Harding;  give  it  to  him!" 

Win  Harding  made  a  spring  for  Hans,  caught  him  by 
the  back  of  the  neck,  kicked  his  feet  from  beneath  him, 
and  flung  him  to  the  ground,  where  the  Dutch  boy  struck 
in  a  sitting  posture. 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !"  gasped  Hans.  "Dot  near  knock 
uf  me  der  prains  oudt!  Dot  don'd  peen  no  fair  shows  I 
vos  gifin'  you  ven  you  poth  shump  on  me  at  one  dimes.  I 
nefer  peen  no  great  scrappers,  but  I  vill  fight  der  poth  uf 
you  von  ad  a  dime  all  togedder.  Uf  you  took  turns  mit 
me  I  might  last  longer,  ain'd  it." 

He  tried  to  get  up,  but  Harding  gave  him  a  savage  kick 
that  rolled  him  over  and  over  and  drove  the  breath  out 
of  his  body. 

"Kick  him,  Rupe !"  grated  the  village  ruffian.  "Kick  the 
stuffing  out  of  the  fool !" 

"That's  what  we'll  do !"  grated  Reynolds,  as  he  sprang 
at  Hans,  and  gave  the  Dutch  lad  a  kick. 

The  girls  screamed  at  the  sight.  May  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands  and  nearly  fainted. 


Eggs-citement.  39 

"Oh,  you  villains !"  cried  Inza.    "You  brutal  ruffians !" 

But  that  did  not  stop  them.  Rupert  had  been  struck, 
and  he  was  beside  himself  with  fury.  Again  and  again 
he  kicked  the  fallen  Dutch  boy. 

"Oh,  dunder  und  blitzens!"  gasped  Hans.  "Vot  you 
took  me  for — a  voot  pall!  Oh,  murder!  Dot  vos  a  rib 
proke  dot  dime!  Dot  vos  anodder!  Ow — wow!  Mein 

pack !  Don'd  kick  me  in  der  same  blace  more  as  sefen 

Oh— oh!  Hellup!" 

It  seemed  as  if  Reynolds  and  Harding  were  determined 
to  kick  him  into  unconsciousness.  Their  faces  were  flam- 
ing with  rage,  and  they  followed  him  up  as  he  rolled  over 
and  over  till  he  was  almost  beneath  the  sleepy-looking 
little  jackass. 

Then  something  happened.  The  donkey  awoke  and 
seemed  to  be  struck  with  a  sudden  desire  to  do  some  kick- 
ing himself,  for  he  wheeled  and  let  his  heels  fly. 

Harding  tried  to  get  out  of  the  way,  but  he  was  struck 
and  knocked  down. 

"Hee-haw !"  brayed  the  triumphant  little  animal. 

Just  then  the  three  Yale  lads  came  round  the  corner  and 
paused  in  astonishment  at  the  spectacle. 

"Great  Scott!"  cried  Frank  Merriwell.  "What  does 
this  mean?" 

The  girls  saw  them  and  cried  to  them  for  help.  In  an- 
other moment  Frank  was  at  Inza's  side,  hurriedly  asking 
her  to  explain,  which  she  did  in  a  very  few  words. 

Reynolds  seemed  on  the  point  of  taking  to  flight,  and 
then  he  tried  to  assist  his  companion,  who  was  groaning 
on  the  ground.  Before  he  could  get  Harding  up  the  Yale 
lads  pounced  upon  them  and  made  them  captives. 

Reynolds  attempted  to  fight,  but  he  found  himself 
powerless  in  the  muscular  hands  of  Browning,  who  held 
him  with  little  effort.  All  the  fight  had  been  taken  out  of 
Harding  by  the  donkey's  heels. 


40  Eggs-citement. 

Hans  had  crawled  to  his  feet  and  was  feeling  of  him- 
self as  if  doubtful  as  to  his  injuries. 

"So  these  chaps  have  been  annoying  you,  girls?"  said 
Frank.  "And  they  kicked  Hans?" 

"Yaw,"  nodded  the  Dutch  boy.  "Uf  they  don'd  near 
kick  me  to  death,  you  don't  know  me!" 

"I  rather  think  they  need  a  lesson,"  said  Merry ;  "and 
we  will  try  to  give  them  one." 

"What  can  we  do  to  them?"  asked  Hodge,  savagely. 
"They  ought  to  be  shot !" 

"Bring  them  round  to  the  barn,  boys,"  said  Frank, 
laughing  oddly.  "You  hadn't  better  come,  girls." 

May  was  alarmed. 

"Oh,  don't  hurt  them!"  she  cried.  "Please  don't  do 
anything  like  that!" 

"Don't  worry,"  assured  Merry;  "we  won't  harm  them, 
but  we  will  give  them  a  dose  they'll  not  forget  very  soon." 

Then  the  two  furious  captives  were  forced  to  march 
round  to  the  barn.  On  the  way  Browning  asked : 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  to  them,  Merriwell  ?" 

"Oh,  we'll  have  an  eggs-citing  time  with  them," 
chuckled  Frank.  "It  may  teach  them  better  manners. 
Anyway,  it  may  be  an  eggs-periment  worth  trying." 

"Eggs-cellent !"  said  the  giant,  catching  on  in  a  mo- 
ment. "I  understand  eggs-actly." 

Wondering  what  punishment  they  were  to  receive  and 
quivering  with  fear,  the  captured  rascals  were  taken  into 
the  barn,  where  they  were  tied  to  two  stout  posts  in  a 
standing  position. 

"You  had  better  be  careful!"  said  Reynolds,  panting 
for  breath.  "You'll  be  sorry  for  this !" 

'•That's  right,"  put  in  Harding.  "My  father  is  a  rich 
man,  and  he'll  make  you  suffer!" 

"Oh,  we'll  take  chances  on  that  after  what  you  have 
done,"  said  Merry.  "Your  attack  on  Dunnerwust  was 


Eggs-citement.  41 

enough  t©  put  you  in  jail  for  a  while  if  we  cared  to  push 
the  matter,  but  we're  going  to  let  Hans  square  the  ac- 
count." 

"How  vos  dot  ?"  asked  the  Dutch  boy,  who  accompanied 
them.  "Vot  vos  I  goin'  to  done  mit  them  ?" 

"You  are  going  to  have  fun  with  them,"  declared  Frank. 
"Just  keep  watch  to  see  that  they  don't  get  away.  We'll 
be  back  in  a  minute." 

Then,  accompanied  by  Bart  and  Bruce,  he  began  to 
search  through  the  barn.  Ten  minutes  later  the  three  boys 
returned  with  their  hats  piled  full  of  eggs. 

"Some  of  this  hen  fruit  is  a  trifle  mellow,"  laughed 
Merry.  "I  found  a  nest  of  stale  ones.  They  can  be  used 
to  put  on  the  finishing  touches." 

Then  he  told  Hans  to  take  the  eggs  and  use  them  to 
throw  at  the  two  living  targets  which  were  tied  to  the 
posts. 

When  the  Dutch  boy  realized  what  he  was  to  do,  he  had 
a  fit  of  laughing  and  nearly  strangled. 

"Oh,  shimminy  Gristmas !"  he  gurgled.  "Uf  dot  don'd 
beat  der  deck.  I  don'd  done  a  thing  to  dem  vellers !  Id 
peen  goin'  to  be  a  recular  bicnic !" 

"Don't  you  dare  do  it !"  panted  Harding,  struggling  to 
break  away.  "I'll  kill  you,  if  you  do  1" 

"Don'd  got  excited,"  advised  Hans.  "I  peen  goin'  to 
haf  you  all  vrescoed  ofer  mit  yaller  britty  queek." 

Hans  took  off  his  coat,  spat  on  his  hands,  picked  up  an 
egg  and  let  it  fly.  The  Dutch  boy  could  throw  fairly 
well,  and  his  first  shot  was  a  good  one,  for  the  egg  struck 
the  bosom  of  Harding's  shirt  and  spattered  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

Dunnerwust  enjoyed  his  task  thoroughly,  and  the  Yale 
lads  laughed  in  a  manner  that  showed  their  satisfaction. 
Hans  worked  like  a  beaver,  and  he  did  not  miss  many 
times. 


42  Eggs-citement. 

Spat !  spat !  spat !  went  the  eggs,  and  soon  the  captives 
were  a  sight  to  behold.  In  vain  they  begged.  Frank 
Merriwell  assured  them  that  they  were  getting  off  easy. 
In  vain  they  threatened.  The  boys  laughed  at  their 
threats. 

Frank  reserved  the  "mellow"  eggs  for  the  final  ones. 
The  first  one  struck  Reynolds,  and  the  odor  that  followed 
its  breaking  nearly  drove  the  Yale  lads  out  of  the  barn. 

"Hurry,  Hans,"  urged  Browning,  "or  we'll  not  be 
able  to  stay  to  see  the  fun  out." 

Hans  hurried,  and  soon  all  the  eggs  were  used,  and  the 
two  rascals  were  covered  with  a  sticky  yellow  mass  that 
was  not  pleasant  to  see.  Then  they  were  set  free,  and 
permitted  to  depart,  after  listening  to  a  few  warning  word* 
from  Merriwell. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HANS    EXPLAINS. 

"This  isn't  a  taste  to  what  you  will  get  if  you  ever  bother 
those  young  ladies  again,"  declared  Frank,  sternly. 

Rupert  tried  to  glare  at  him,  but  he  presented  such  a 
ludicrous  spectacle  that  Hans  shouted  with  laughter. 

"Laugh,  hang  you !"  snarled  the  former  Fardale  cadet. 
"I  have  it  in  for  you !  You'll  wish  you'd  never  seen  me  1" 

Harding  said  nothing.  He  did  not  even  try  to  glare. 
It  seemed  that  he  was  utterly  overcome  by  the  smell  of 
the  eggs.  He  seemed  weak  and  scarcely  able  to  stand. 

"Save  your  threats,"  advised  Frank.  "No  one  is  afraid 
of  you,  and  you  will  make  the  mistake  of  your  life  if  you 
try  to  get  revenge.  Next  time  it  will  not  be  eggs — it  will 
be  tar  and  feathers !" 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Browning.  "And  I'll  help  put 
on  the  coat." 

"You  are  getting  off  easy,"  declared  Hodge,  who  was 
determined  to  have  his  say.  "If  I  had  been  the  one  to  say 
what  you  deserved,  I  should  have  seen  that  you  were 
stripped  and  flogged." 

"Oh,  you  would!"  grated  Rupert.  "Well,  we  won't 
forget  that !  We  will " 

"You  will  get  out  now — and  get  out  in  a  hurry,"  cut  in 
Frank.  "The  sight  of  you  is  sickening,  and  the  odor  is 
enough  to  kill  anyone.  Git !" 

"Git !"  echoed  Browning. 

"Git!"  cried  Bart  Hodge. 

"Yah,"  said  Hans,  still  grinning;  "took  yourseluf  avay 
alretty  pefore  some  more  eggs  throw  me  at  you.  Oh,  you 
vos  two  peautiful  poys  1  You  vos  beaches  I  Ta,  ta,  sweet- 


44  Hans  Explains. 

nesses !  Von't  der  kirls  laugh  ven  dey  seen  you  gone  past 
der  house !  Oh,  my !" 

Harding  staggered  away  and  made  for  the  pump,  which 
stood  in  the  yard.  He  seized  the  handle  and  started  the 
water,  making  haste  to  try  to  wash  some  of  that  filthy 
mass  from  his  face.  Rupert  joined  him,  and  the  two 
washed  at  the  pump. 

Hodge  was  for  driving  them  away  and  not  giving  them 
a  chance  to  wash  any  of  the  stuff  off,  but  Frank  seemed 
to  relent  in  a  measure,  and  urged  that  they  be  allowed  to 
get  the  stuff  off  their  faces  and  hands.  As  soon  as  the 
fellows  had  done  this,  however,  they  were  not  permitted  to 
clean  their  clothes,  but  were  driven  away  from  the  pump. 

When  Reynolds  reached  the  road  he  suddenly  stooped, 
picked  up  a  rock  and  sent  it  whistling  straight  at  Merri- 
well.  If  Frank  had  not  leaped  aside  he  must  have 
been  hit. 

In  a  twinkling  Bart  had  a  stone  in  each  hand,  shouting : 

"We  can  play  that  trick,  too!  Let's  stone  them  out  of 
sight,  fellows !" 

But  Frank  caught  his  hand  and  would  not  permit  him 
to  throw  a  stone  at  the  unfortunate  young  rascals. 

"Let  them  go,"  he  advised.  "We  have  done  enough 
to  them  for  this  time." 

The  girls  were  looking  out  of  the  windows,  and  they 
had  been  wondering  what  was  taking  place  in  the  barn. 

"Oh,  what  do  you  suppose  they  will  do  to  Reynolds  and 
Harding?"  May  had  asked,  in  great  alarm.  "How  will 
they  punish  them?" 

"As  they  deserve,  without  doubt,"  answered  Inza,  satis- 
faction expressed  on  her  face. 

"Oh,  I  hope  they  won't  do  anything  terrible !"  faltered 
May,  in  distress. 

"I  hope  they  will  give  the  fellows  a  good  thrashing !" 


Hans  Explains.  45 

cried  Inza,  her  eyes  flashing  and  nostrils  dilating.  "It's 
what  they  deserve!" 

"It  is  what  they  deserve,"  agreed  Belinda. 

"But  I'm  afraid  they  won't  get  it,"  said  Inza. 

"Won't?     Why?" 

"Because  Frank  Merriwell  is  there." 

"Why?    He " 

"I  don't  believe  he  will  agree  to  anything  like  that." 

"Why  not?" 

"Simply  because  Reynolds  and  Harding  are  captives. 
He  will  feel  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  thrash  them.  But 
it  would  be  just  right!  Frank  is  too  easy  in  some  cases. 
That's  what  I  do  not  like  about  him.  He  lets  up  too  quick, 
and  his  enemies  are  liable  to  think  he  is  soft.  If  Reynolds 
and  Harding  received  their  just  deserts  to-day,  they  would 
be  afraid  of  Frank  and  the  boys  afterward,  and  so  they 
would  not  dare  molest  us  again." 

"Oh,  they  did  not  harm  us !"  said  May,  quickly.  "Ru- 
pert didn't  know  he  was  hurting  my  arm  when  he  took 
hold  of  it  so  roughly." 

"You  are  softer  than  Frank  Merriwell !"  exclaimed  Inza, 
with  a  mingling  of  laughter  and  scorn.  "He  acted  like  a 
ruffian  toward  you.  But  that  was  not  all!  Think  how 
they  kicked  that  poor  Dutch  boy  when  he  was  helpless  on 
the  ground !  That  is  what  makes  my  blood  boil !" 

"Do  you  know,  Inza,"  said  May,  "I  believe  I  remem- 
ber that  Dutch  boy.  He  used  to  be  a  cadet  at  the  acad- 
emy. You  know  him,  too.  His  name  is  Dunnerwust." 

"Gracious!"  cried  Inza.    "Not  Hans  Dunnerwust?" 

"I  taink  so." 

"Impossible  1" 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  I  saw  much  of  Hans  last  summer,  and  he  was 
very  fleshy  then.  This  boy  was  thin." 


46  Hans  Explains. 

"I  may  be  wrong,"  admitted  May ;  "but  I  think  it  was 
the  Dutch  boy  who  was  a  cadet  here  once." 

"He  had  on  a  uniform." 

"But  there  is  no  such  cadet  in  the  academy  now,"  de- 
clared Belinda.  "He  was  a  stranger.  I  remember  Hans 
Dunnerwust,  but  I  did  not  recognize  him." 

"If  it  is  Hans,  he  has  changed  remarkably,"  said  Inza. 

Then  the  girls  listened  to  hear  any  sounds  that  might 
come  from  the  barn.  If  they  were  expecting  to  hear  cries 
of  pain,  they  were  disappointed;  but,  after  a  time,  they 
did  hear  shouts  of  laughter. 

"They  seem  to  be  having  a  jolly  time  out  there,"  said 
Belinda,  in  surprise. 

"I'll  risk  something  that  Frank  Merriwell  is  playing 
one  of  his  practical  jokes  on  Reynolds  and  Harding,"  Inza 
cried.  "It  is  like  him,  but  I  should  think  he  would  realize 
that  this  is  not  a  matter  to  be  joked  over." 

The  girls  watched,  and  after  a  time  saw  the  two  un- 
fortunate rascals  come  from  the  front  barn  door,  simply 
pasted  over  with  smashed  eggs.  They  saw  Frank,  Bart, 
Bruce  and  Hans  appear  in  the  open  door,  and  stand,  hands 
in  pockets,  watching  the  discomfited  fellows,  laughing 
heartily  at  the  spectacle. 

Inza  fell  to  laughing,  as  did  Belinda,  but  May  turned 
away,  as  if  sickened  by  the  spectacle. 

"Oh,"  said  Inza,  "I  know  Frank  thought  of  that  for 
a  method  of  punishment !  It  was  better  than  whipping 
them !  It  must  have  been  sport !" 

"Don't  know  but  I  would  have  enjoyed  throwing  some 
of  them  eggs  myself,"  said  Belinda. 

"But  they  are  letting  them  wash  at  the  pump  1"  ex- 
claimed Inza.  "Why  are  they  permitting  that?" 

After  a  few  moments  the  Yale  boys  and  Hans  came 
from  the  barn  and  drove  the  others  away. 

When  it  was  all  over,  and  Reynolds  and  Harding  had 


Hans  Explains.  47 

disappeared  up  the  road,  the  girls  came  out  of  the  house, 
although  May  did  not  seem  quite  recovered  from  what 
she  had  passed  through.  Inza  and  Belinda  were  laughing. 

"I  hardly  think  they  will  dare  to  bother  you  again, 
girls,"  said  Frank.  "We  gave  them  proper  warning. 
Next  time  it  is  to  be  tar  and  feathers." 

"It  was  so  lucky  you  came  just  as  you  did!"  cried  Inza. 
"Why,  they  had  been  cruelly  kicking  this  poor  fellow  who 
tried  to  defend  us  from  them,  and " 

"Yaw,"  nodded  Dunnerwust;  "I  feel  me  all  ofer  mit 
der  toe-prints  their  feet  uf  alretty  still.  I  pelief  some- 
dimes  I  haf  sefendeen  ur  dwenty  ribs  proke.  How  you 
vas,  Miss  Purrage?" 

Inza  was  astonished. 

"Hans !"  she  exclaimed.    "Is  it  possible  ?" 

"Yaw,  id  peen  me.    Don'd  you  knew  myself?" 

"No,  I  did  not  know  you.  Why,  it  is  remarkable  how 
you  have  changed.  You  must  have  been  ill." 

"Nix.    I  haf  peen  in  Prooklyn." 

"Brooklyn?" 

"Yaw,  Prooklyn,  New  Yorks." 

"But  you  are  so  thin !  How  did  being  in  Brooklyn  make 
you  so?" 

"I  peen  ad  work  in  a  Prooklyn  restaurant,  und  I  nearly 
starfe  to  death.  Dot  peen  vot's  der  madder  mit  me.  Uf 
I  staid  there  anodder  veek,  you  vos  a  goner.  I  toldt  mein- 
seluf  dot  shust  in  dime,  und  got  me  oudt  uf  him." 

All  looked  at  Hans  incredulous,  but  the  Dutch  boy 
seemed  in  earnest.  He  really  appeared  too  slow-witted  to 
think  of  manufacturing  such  a  yarn  as  a  joke. 

"But  you  should  have  been  able  to  get  enough  to  eat 
in  a  restaurant,  Hans,"  said  Browning. 

"Berhaps  you  don'd  understooded  der  kindt  uf  a  res- 
taurant I  peen  indo,  Pruce." 

"Perhaps  not.   What  kind  was  it  ?" 


48  Hans  Explains. 

"Von  uf  der  quick  lunch  ged-ub-und-swoller-your-grub- 
in-a-hurry  kind.  Efrey  tay  they  haf  der  same  oldt  stuff 
der  pill  uf  fare  on — peans,  hash,  jackflaps.  Britty  soon  I 
got  tired  uf  dot  sduff.  Mein  stomach  he  don'd  seem  to 
took  to  dot  sduff.  I  don'd  ead  id  so  much  as  I  did  at  der 
first.  Und  after  dot  I  ead  it  some  more  less  than  I  did 
at  dot  time.  After  I  ead  I  vos  britty  near  starfed.  Id 
keep  gottin'  vorse  efray  tay,  und  I  peen  growin'  thinner 
and  thinner.  Ad  virst  I  peen  bleased  ven  I  lose  some  uf 
mein  heftiness,  but  mein  clothes  they  don'd  fitted  me  to 
them,  und  I  kept  on  more  in  dot  vay  till  I  vos  so  plamed 
thin  dot  der  brobrietor  vouldn't  haf  me  in  der  front  der 
restaurant  uf  as  I  drife  avay  drade.  Dot  peen  der  trute 
how  I  got  so  slender  dot  I  haf  to  standt  dwice  der  same 
blace  in  pefore  I  make  a  shadder.  Yaw." 

Frank  and  Bruce  laughed.  The  idea  that  Hans  grew 
thin  working  in  a  restaurant  was  really  ludicrous,  but  the 
Dutch  boy  told  the  story  with  such  simplicity  that  no  one 
could  think  he  had  invented  it. 

"Did  you  get  my  letter,  Hans?"  asked  Frank. 

"Nefer  got  dot  letter,  Vrankie." 

"Then  how  do  you  happen  to  be  here?" 

"Id  peen  dis  vay:  One  tay  I  seen  somepody  der  res- 
taurant in  dot  look  like  he  haf  seen  me  pefore.  Ven  I 
look  ad  dot  veller  der  second  dime,  I  seen  it  peen  Efram 
Gallup." 

"Ephraim  Gallup?" 

"Yaw.  I  peen  dickled  to  bieces,  und  I  slap  him  der  pack 
on,  und  I  say,  'How  you  vos,  Efy,  ain'd  id?  Ven  he 
seen  who  I  vos,  he  said  he  vos  bleased  to  seen  me.  I  had 
a  talks  mit  him,  und  he  toldt  me  he  haf  a  ledder  from  you, 
und  dot  you  vos  goin'  to  Vardale,  und  you  invited  him  to 
come.  He  say  you  write  in  dot  ledder  dot  you  haf  writed 
to  me,  but  I  don'd  got  dot  ledder.  Efy  say  he  haf  some 
pusiness,  und  den  he  vos  comin'  to  Vardale.  Vale,  you 


Hans  Explains.  49 

pet  me  my  life  I  made  der  mind  uf  me  ub  britty  queek 
dot  I  peen  goin'  to  Vardale.  Here  I  vos,  poys.  Dot 
vos  all." 

"Where  is  Ephrain  ?" 

"I  don'd  knew  dot.  Oxpect  he  vill  be  along  britty 
soon." 

"We  are  liable  to  have  the  most  of  the  old  crowd  here 
before  many  days,"  said  Frank.  "It  will  be  jolly." 

The  little  donkey  Hans  had  hired  in  town  was  found 
calmly  feeding  back  of  the  house,  and  was  taken  care  of 
by  Hans.  The  Dutch  boy  had  thought  to  make  a  sensa- 
tion at  the  academy  by  appearing  in  his  old  cadet  uniform 
and  mounted  on  a  "fiery  steed."  The  only  steed  he  could 
secure  was  the  donkey,  but  he  had  created  a  sensation 
just  the  same. 

Bart  and  May  occupied  the  hammock  back  of  the  house, 
while  Frank  and  Inza  sat  on  the  rustic  seat  and  chatted. 
The  girls  soon  forgot  their  recent  unpleasant  adventure, 
and  all  were  jolly. 

All  but  Belinda.  Bruce  seemed  entirely  blind  to  her 
charms.  She  did  all  she  could  to  win  his  attention,  but 
he  sought  a  shady  spot  beneath  the  trees  and  proceeded 
to  go  to  sleep. 

But  Hans  was  on  hand,  and  he  was  very  attentive  to 
the  farmer's  daughter. 

"Pelinda,"  he  said,  "you  peen  better  lookin'  than  you 
used  to  vos — und  you  alvays  vos  a  daisy." 

"Oh,  you  stop  your  flattery !"  giggled  Belinda,  coyly. 

"Dot  don'd  peen  no  vlattery,"  murmured  the  Dutch 
boy,  earnestly.  "I  toldt  you  der  druth.  You  haf  der  most 
peautiful  raven-plue  eyes,  der  most  peautiful  brick-colored, 
goldten  hair,  und  your  cheeks  peen  shust  so  fat  und  red 
dot  I  vant  to  eated  them,  unud  your  nose  haf  der  sweet- 
est bob-up  curfe  at  der  end,  und  your  mouth  vos  so  larch 
dot  I  vant  to  took  plenty  uf  dime  to  pegin  ad  der  east  cor- 


5o  Hans  Explains. 

ner  und  kiss  id  all  der  vay  roundt  to  der  blace  where  id 
stops  der  odder  side  uf  your  face  on.  Yaw !" 

Belinda  was  not  certain  at  first  whether  Hans  was  mak- 
ing sport  of  her  or  not,  but  the  Dutch  lad  persisted  with 
the  utmost  earnestness,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  won 
her  fickle  young  heart  in  such  a  way  that  she  forgot  Bruce 
Browning  for  the  time. 

As  for  Hans,  he  was  really  smitten  with  Belinda,  and 
he  continued  to  make  love  to  her  in  earnest. 

"Oh,  Pelinda !"  he  said,  "uf  I  didn't  vork  dot  Prooklyn 
restaurant  in,  I  peen  aple  to  holdt  you  mein  knees  on,  und 
dot  vould  be  der  sveetest  moment  uf  your  life." 

"But  now,"  giggled  Belinda,  "I  can  hold  you  on  my  knee 
easier  than  you  can  hold  me  on  yours." 

She  was  sitting  on  a  chair  beneath  the  trees,  and  Hans 
was  bending  over  her.  Laughingly  she  reached  up  and 
pulled  him  down  on  her  lap,  whereupon  the  chair  gave  way 
with  a  crash,  and  both  sprawled  on  the  ground. 

Belinda  utter  a  wild  shriek  and  clasped  her  arms  about 
Hans'  neck,  nearly  smothering  him,  from  which  position 
of  peril  he  was  rescued  by  Frank,  who,  with  Inza,  had 
been  watching  with  no  small  amusement  the  progress  of 
the  flirtation  between  the  Dutch  lad  and  the  farmer's 
daughter. 


CHAPTER  VU 

A    MYSTERIOUS    DISAPPEARANCE. 

The  first  night  in  camp  proved  to  be  a  lively  one  for  the 
boys  in  the  Yale  tent.  The  yearlings  were  anxious  for 
taps,  for  the  real  fun  could  not  begin  till  the  camp  had 
quieted  down. 

An  extra  heavy  guard  was  placed  on  duty,  and  it  was 
known  that  such  cadets  as  were  caught  "deviling"  would 
be  severely  punished.  But  no  one  imagined  that  such 
pranks  could  be  entirely  stopped. 

With  the  sounding  of  taps  every  light  was  extinguished. 
Then  the  time  began  to  creep  away. 

Hans  Dunnerwust  had  been  permitted  to  stay  in  camp, 
as  there  was  room  for  him  in  the  Yale  tent.  He  had  been 
given  permission  by  Lieut.  Gordan. 

Not  one  of  the  Yale  lads  fancied  they  would  be  molested, 
but  Frank  felt  that  there  would  be  sport  in  camp  before 
morning. 

The  sentries  began  to  call  the  hours. 

"Eleven  o'clock,  and  a-l-l-'-s  well." 

The  call  passed  round  the  camp.  Frank  was  not  asleep, 
and  he  felt  sure  there  would  be  a  stir  before  twelve. 

Hans  was  snoring,  Bart  was  breathing  heavily,  while 
Bruce  was  beginning  to  "puff  and  blow." 

It  seemed  as  if,  with  the  exception  of  the  sentries  and 
Frank  himself,  the  entire  camp  was  sleeping. 

Another  hour  passed,  to  Merriwell's  surprise,  and  still 
there  was  no  outbreak.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Was  it  possi- 
ble things  had  changed  since  he  was  a  cadet  there  ? 

"Twelve  o'clock,  and  a-l-l-'-s  well." 

Frank  heard  the  call  of  the  sentries  through  his  dreams, 


52          A  Mysterious  Disappearance. 

for  he  had  begun  to  doze.  Sleep  pressed  down  upon  him. 
It  was  to  be  a  quiet  night,  and  there  was  nothing  to  keep 
one  awake. 

Then,  when  Frank  had  fallen  soundly  asleep,  the  very 
thing  happened  to  him  that  had  happened  the  first  nighi 
he  ever  spent  in  camp  at  Fardale. 

Something  jerked  him  out  of  bed,  he  was  rolled  in  a 
blanket,  and  then  away  he  went  by  the  heels,  the  blanket 
smothering  his  cries  if  he  uttered  any. 

But  he  seemed  to  hear  a  voice  shout : 

"Hellup !  hellup !  Dunder  und  blitzens.  I  vos  caughted 
der  feet  uf  me  py,  und  I " 

That  was  all  he  heard,  but  he  knew  Hans  had  uttered 
the  cry,  and  he  realized  that  the  Dutch  boy  was  in  a 
scrape. 

Not  only  was  Merriwell  astonished  by  this  adventure, 
but  he  was  delighted,  for  all  of  his  rough  handling.  It 
seemed  that  again  he  was  a  plebe  at  the  academy,  and  was 
being  "tobogganed."  Bump,  bump,  bump,  went  his  head, 
but  he  took  care  not  to  get  his  tongue  caught  between  his 
teeth  and  let  things  go  without  struggling,  knowing  it 
must  come  to  an  end  some  time. 

"Corporal  of  the  guard !" 

The  cry  came  from  the  sentry  nearest  the  Yale  tent,  and 
the  corporal  came  down  from  the  guard  tent  on  the  jump. 

Around  the  camp  Merry  was  dragged,  and  then  he  was 
suddenly  dropped.  He  struggled  out  of  his  blanket  after 
a  time.  He  was  rather  dazed  and  covered  with  dust,  but 
he  sat  on  the  ground  and  laughed  heartily.  He  was  found 
thus  laughing  by  the  corporal  of  the  guard  and  the  officers 
who  were  searching. 

"Mr.  Merriwell!"  exclaimed  the  corporal,  in  astonish- 
ment, as  the  light  was  flashed  in  Frank's  face.  "Why,  I 
thought  it  must  be  one  of  the  plebes.  This  is  an  outrage  on 
our  visitors  I" 


A  Mysterious  Disappearance.          53 

They  were  astonished  to  see  Frank  laughing  thus,  and 
asked  what  he  was  laughing  about. 

"Why,  it's  a  regular  lark  1"  he  declared.  "Think  of  be- 
ing tobogganed  at  Fardale  again.  It  makes  me  feel  at 
home." 

"The  scoundrels  who  did  this  shall  be  punished  se- 
verely," promised  the  corporal. 

"Don't  punish  them  on  my  account,"  said  Frank.  "I 
don't  mind  a  little  joke  like  this." 

Back  to  the  tent  they  escorted  him.  Bruce  Browning 
was  there,  and  he  was  furious. 

"What  in  blazes  is  the  meaning  of  this,  Merriwell?" 
lie  demanded.  "I  was  sound  asleep  when  somebody  got 
something  hitched  to  my  feet  and  yanked  me  out  of  bed. 
Then  I  was  dragged  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  I 
broke  away." 

"Ha !  ha !  ha !"  laughed  Frank.  "So  they  gave  you  the 
same  dose  I  received.  Well,  this  is  a  racket!" 

"I  don't  see  anything  laughable  about  it,"  said  the  big 
fellow,  in  disgust.  "I'll  be  lame  for  a  week." 

"It's  a  jolly  way  the  cadets  have  of  initiating  us  into  the 
pleasures  of  life  in  a  military  school  encampment.  That 
is  all,  old  fellow.  You  don't  want  to  mind  that." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  I  do  mind  it.  It's  too  steep.  I  can't 
stand  it !" 

"You'll  have  to.    Where  is  Hodge  ?" 

At  that  moment  Bart  was  escorted  to  the  tent  by  an 
officer.  He  looked  battered,  dirty  and  disgusted. 

"This  is  too  much  like  old  times!"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
like  fun,  but " 

"You  like  to  have  the  joke  on  the  other  fellow,  that's 
what's  the  matter  with  you,"  said  Merriwell. 

"Cadets  should  not  perpetrate  jokes  on  visitors,"  said  one 
of  the  officers,  but  Frank  fancied  that  it  was  difficult  for 
him  to  preserve  his  dignity. 


54          A  Mysterious  Disappearance. 

"Where  is  Hans?"  asked  Frank.  "He  was  the  only 
person  I  heard  make  an  outcry." 

"He  must  be  near,"  said  the  corporal,  and  then  he  gave 
an  order  for  an  investigation  of  the  camp,  but  Frank  fan- 
cied he  had  waited  long  enough  to  give  the  perpetrators 
of  the  joke  time  to  get  back  to  their  beds. 

Of  course,  such  an  inspection  was  unsatisfactory.  Every 
cadet  seemed  to  be  in  bed,  with  the  exception  of  those 
who  were  on  duty.  More  remarkable  was  the  fact  that 
nearly  everyone  seemed  to  have  slept  straight  through  the 
uproar. 

As  the  minutes  passed,  Frank  began  to  wonder  more 
and  more  what  had  become  of  Hans.  If  the  Dutch  lad 
was  anywhere  within  the  limits  of  the  camp,  it  was  strange 
he  was  not  found  or  did  not  return  to  the  tent. 

A  special  search  was  made  for  him.  The  camp  was 
scoured  from  one  end  to  the  other,  but  not  a  trace  of  Hans 
was  to  be  found.  He  seemed  to  have  disappeared  as  com- 
pletely as  if  the  ground  had  swallowed  him.  The  sentries 
declared  it  was  certain  he  had  not  left  the  camp,  and  yet 
he  was  not  to  be  discovered  within  its  limits. 

This  was  a  mystery.  Browning  and  Hodge  turned  to 
Merriwell  for  the  solution,  but  Frank  was  not  able  to 
solve  it  immediately.  He  seemed  no  less  puzzled  than  the 
others. 

"He  must  be  somewhere  in  the  camp,"  said  the  corporal 
of  the  guard.  "We  will  find  him." 

But  he  was  not  able  to  do  so. 

Lieut.  Gordan  was  aroused.  The  cadets  were  mustered 
out,  and  the  roll  was  called. 

Every  cadet  answered  promptly  to  his  name. 

It  was  plain  enough  that  no  one  in  camp  had  carried 
Hans  so  far  away  that  he  was  not  able  to  get  back. 

Then  it  must  be  that  the  frightened  Dutch  lad  had  fled 
from  the  camp  and  was  afraid  to  return. 


A  Mysterious  Disappearance.          55 

The  guards  were  questioned,  and  they  claimed  that  such 
a  thing  was  not  possible.  Double  guard  had  been  mounted 
all  round  the  camp,  and  they  claimed  that  no  living  human 
being  could  have  passed  outside  its  boundaries  without 
being  challenged.  Every  man  on  guard  duty  declared  no 
person  had  passed. 

That  being  the  case,  Hans  must  be  hiding  somewhere  in 
the  camp. 

Frank  would  not  believe  this.  He  said  it  was  not  like 
Dunnerwust  to  be  so  frightened  by  a  simple  "toboggan- 
ing" that  he  would  hide.  He  had  been  hazed  when  he 
was  a  cadet  at  the  academy.  Besides,  where  could  he 
hide? 

Again  the  camp  was  searched,  and  this  time  it  was  done 
so  thoroughly  that  no  one  could  suspect  the  Dutch  boy 
still  remained  within  its  limits. 

"He  got  outside  somehow,"  declared  Frank.  "And 
there  is  where  we  will  have  to  look  for  him." 

"You  shall  have  six  men  to  assist  you,"  said  Lieut.  Gor- 
dan,  and  then  he  proceeded  to  select  the  cadets  for  the  ser- 
vice, naming  five,  and  then  placing  Cadet  Corp.  Somers 
in  charge  of  them. 

Frank's  first  thought  was  to  object  to  this,  but  he  quickly 
changed  his  mind  and  said  nothing,  save  to  thank  Lieut. 
Gordan  for  his  kindness. 

The  six  cadets  and  the  three  Yale  lads  marched  out  of 
the  camp  to  begin  the  search. 

Frank  thought  it  possible  Hans  had  fled  straight  to 
Snodd's  and  sought  refuge  there,  so  the  searchers  went 
to  the  farmhouse  first.  To  the  surprise  of  all,  Snodd  was 
awake  and  up.  Barely  had  they  entered  his  yard  before 
he  flung  up  a  window  and  demanded  to  know  what  was 
up  and  what  they  wanted. 

Frank  explained  that  Dunnerwust  was  missing,  and 
they  were  searching  for  him.  They  had  come  there  think- 


56          A  Mysterious  Disappearance. 

ing  they  might  find  him.  But  Snodd  said  he  had  seen 
nothing  of  the  Dutch  boy. 

"  'Bout  a  hour  and  a  half  ago,"  he  added,  "there  was 
a  lot  of  fellers  went  down  the  road  toward  the  Cove.  They 
stopped  out  in  front  of  the  house  an'  talked.  That  was 
what  woke  me  up,  an'  I  ain't  bin  to  bed  sence.  I  didn't 
know  what  sort  of  business  they  was  up  to,  an'  I've  bin 
watchin'  for  them  to  come  back." 

That  was  interesting  information.  Frank  felt  that  he 
would  like  to  know  more  about  the  party  that  went  toward 
the  Cove. 

"How  many  of  them  were  there?"  he  asked. 

"Couldn't  jest  tell,"  answered  the  farmer;  "but  I  should 
say  five  or  six." 

"They  came  from  the  direction  of  the  village  ?" 

"Yep." 

"Did  you  hear  any  of  their  talk  ?" 

"Nop.  They  was  a-jabberin',  but  I  couldn't  under- 
stand what  they  was  sayin*.  I  think  they  was  some  of 
them  harum-scarum  village  chaps,  an'  I  bet  they  was  up 
to  some  sort  of  monkey  shines." 

This  was  all  John  Snodd  could  tell  them,  and  it  was 
quite  enough  to  set  Frank  to  thinking. 

As  soon  as  they  turned  from  the  farmer's  house  and 
the  man  had  closed  the  window,  Casper  Somers  said: 

"Old  Snodd  has  rats  in  his  garret.  Don't  believe  he  saw 
anybody  go  down  the  road.  We  didn't  see  anything  of 
them  when  we  came  up." 

"That  is  true,"  agreed  Frank,  who  was  determined  to 
use  Cadet  Somers  exactly  as  if  nothing  unpleasant  had 
happened  on  the  parade  ground  the  previous  day.  "But 
we  would  not  have  been  liable  to  see  them." 

"Why  not,  sir?" 

"If  those  village  fellows  were  out  for  a  racket  in  this 


A  Mysterious  Disappearance.          57 

vicinity,  it  is  probable  they  heard  us  coming  and  concealed 
themselves." 

"Perhaps  so;  but  I  tell  you  old  Snodd  has  rats  in  his 
garret.  "He  is  liable  to  tell  any  sort  of  story." 

"I  know  him  quite  well,  and  I  have  not  detected  him  in 
a  falsehood." 

"That's  remarkable;  but  some  folks  say  he  believes  all 
he  says,  even  when  he  is  drawing  the  long  bow.  I'll  wager 
something  he  never  saw  anybody  going  down  the  road  to- 
ward the  Cove  as  he  described." 

"What  would  be  his  object  in  telling  such  a  yarn  ?" 

"Give  it  up.  He  never  seems  to  have  any  object,  but 
he  fabricates  just  the  same." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TAD   JONES. 

A  consultation  was  held.  Casper  declared  his  belief  that 
Hans  would  be  found  somewhere  very  near  the  academy. 
He  said  that,  without  doubt,  the  Dutch  boy  had  been  so 
frightened  by  the  shaking  up  he  had  received  that  he  had 
found  some  way  to  slip  out  of  camp,  and  did  not  dare  re- 
turn. 

Frank  and  his  friends  were  not  satisfied  that  this  was 
what  had  happened  to  the  Dutch  boy.  Hodge  said  that 
Hans  had  been  well  hazed  in  the  days  when  he  was  a  cadet 
at  the  academy  so  is  was  not  at  all  probable  that  a  "tobog- 
gan ride"  would  frighten  him  so  much. 

But  not  one  of  them  offered  an  explanation  of  the  re- 
markable vanishing  of  Hans. 

"He  may  have  rushed  to  those  woods  over  to  the  south- 
west of  Black  Bluff,"  said  Casper.  "If  he  did  not  leave 
in  this  direction,  it  is  almost  certain  he  went  that  way." 

"Will  you  send  three  of  your  men  to  search  along  the 
shore  and  look  into  the  old  boathouse,  Mr.  Somers?"  said 
Frank.  "Let  them  join  us  later  over  by  the  woods." 

Casper  gave  the  order  immediately,  sending  three  of 
the  cadets  to  search  the  territory  spoken  of  by  Frank. 

Then  the  rest  of  the  party  went  down  the  road  again, 
passed  round  the  cadet  encampment  and  made  for  the 
woods  near  Black  Bluff. 

On  the  way  Frank  drew  Bart  aside  and  softly  asked : 

"What  do  you  think,  Hodge?" 

"You  are  letting  Somers  run  this  search,"  growled  Bart, 
bitterly.  "I  haven't  anything  to  say." 

"Don't  be  foolish !    I  listened  to  Somers'  suggestion  be- 


Tad  Jones.  59 

cause  I  want  him  to  think  I  am  easily  fooled.  He  may 
trap  himself  by  some  word  or  act." 

"Then  you  imagine " 

"That  he  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  this  dis- 
appearance— yes." 

"Jove,  Frank!"  breathed  Bart,  excitedly.  "I  thought 
that  all  along,  but  I  didn't  say  so  for  fear  you'd  think  me 
foolish.  It's  a  part  of  his  game.  He's  making  us  kick  up 
as  much  trouble  as  possible,  or  seem  to  kick  it  up,  so 
we'll  be  fired  out  of  the  camp.  If  he  reported  the  little 
affair  on  the  parade  ground,  he  did  not  receive  much  satis- 
faction, for  it  has  not  been  mentioned  to  us,  and  Hans  was 
permitted  to  stop  in  camp.  That  aroused  him  to  desperate 
measures.  He  means  to  throw  us  down  hard,  Frank. 
You  are  the  one  he  is  aiming  at." 

"But  this  vanishing  of  Hans " 

"We'll  find  him  all  right  after  a  time." 

"Cadets  could  not  have  carried  him  so  very  far  away, 
for  all  were  on  hand  to  answer  at  roll  call." 

"If  not  cadets,  then " 

"The  little  party  John  Snodd  saw  coming  down  the 
road." 

"You  think— just  what?" 

"Those  fellows  had  something  to  do  with  the  disappear- 
ance of  Hans  Dunnerwust." 

"But  they  could  not  get  into  camp — they  could  not  pass 
the  sentries.  You  know  that." 

"They  didn't  have  to." 

"Eh?    Not  if  they  carried  Hans  off?    Why  not?" 

"He  was  brought  out  and  delivered  to  them."  , 

Bart  gave  a  spring  into  the  air  and  grabbed  Frank  tKe 
moment  his  feet  touched  the  ground  again. 

"Right!"  he  hissed  in  Merriwell's  ear.  "You  have 
struck  it!  That  explains  the  mystery.  It  was  a  put-ufl 


60  Tad  Jones. 

job  to  deliver  Dutchy  to  them,  and  it  was  carried  out  all 
right." 

"They  carried  him  away." 

"Sure.  That  gave  the  ones  who  made  the  capture 
plenty  of  time  to  get  back  and  answer  at  roll  call.  But 
who  of  the  village  boys  would  be  in  this  sort  of  a  game?" 

"Who  but  Win  Harding,  the  leader  of  the  village 
toughs;  and,  of  course,  Rupert  Reynolds  was  with  them, 
for  he  is  even  a  greater  rascal  than  Harding." 

"If  Hans  has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  those  fellows,  I 
pity  him!"  gasped  Hodge,  grinding  his  teeth.  "They'll 
give  it  to  him !" 

"Poor  Hans !" 

"We  must  find  him !"  grated  Hodge. 

"If  he  has  been  carried  off  in  that  manner,  it  is  not 
likely  we'll  be  able  to  find  him." 

"So  you  remember  Reynolds'  threat  ?  He  vowed  to  get 
even  with  Hans." 

"If  he  harms  that  boy " 

Prank  cut  himself  short,  but  that  simply  added  to  the 
threatening  significance  of  his  words. 

"It  is  not  likely  those  fellows  will  not  be  disguised," 
said  Bart.  "They  will  have  their  faces  covered,  so  that 
Hans  will  not  know  them.  He'll  not  be  able  to  swear  to 
their  identity." 

At  the  moment,  seeing  Frank  and  Bart  talking  together 
in  the  rear,  Somers  fell  back,  and  it  became  evident  that 
he  was  trying  to  catch  some  of  their  words. 

"The  whelp!"  hissed  Bart.  "I  have  it  in  for  that  fel- 
low !  If  I  ever  get  a  hold  on  him,  I'll  squeeze  him — I'll 
crowd  him  just  as  far  as  possible !" 

Hodge's  dislike  for  Cadet  Somers  was  turning  to  posi- 
tive hatred.  There  was  not  much  of  forgiveness  in  Bart's 
nature. 


Tad  Jones.  61 

"  'Sh !"  warned  Frank.  "He  is  trying  to  hear  what  we 
are  saying." 

"I  know  it !    The  sneak !" 

Then  they  fell  to  talking  loud  enough  for  Somers  to 
hear,  expressing  a  hope  that  the  Dutch  boy  might  be  found 
very  soon.  The  cadet  corporal  turned  and  said : 

"The  lower  end  of  this  strip  of  woods  is  not  very  wide, 
and  it  is  open,  like  a  picnic  grove.  We'll  spread  out  some 
and  go  through  it.  We  may  find  him  that  way." 

This  suggestion  was  accepted,  although  Bart  and  Frank 
felt  certain  such  a  search  would  be  productive  of  no  result. 
If  Somers  knew  where  Hans  was  taken,  it  was  not  likely 
that  he  had  led  them  toward  the  locality. 

So  they  spread  out  as  directed  and  passed  through  the 
woods,  now  and  then  calling  to  Hans  and  to  each  other. 
The  farther  side  of  the  strip  was  reached  and  they  had 
found  nothing.  Then  they  came  together  for  another  con- 
sultation, and  right  there  they  met  with  another  startling 
surprise. 

But  two  cadets  were  with  them.  One  of  the  three  had 
vanished ! 

That  one  was  Cadet  Corporal  Somers ! 

They  called  to  him  repeatedly,  but  received  no  answer  to 
their  cries. 

The  two  remaining  cadets  seemed  scared. 

"Jingoes!"  gasped  one.  "This  business  is  too  much 
for  me!" 

"Me,  too!"  said  the  other.  "I'll  expect  to  find  myself 
caught  up  and  whisked  away.  We  can  do  nothing  without 
a  leader,  anyway,  so  we  may  as  well  return  to  camp  and 
report." 

Browning  seemed  about  to  oppose  this,  but  Frank 
stopped  him,  and  the  cadets  were  permitted  to  depart. 
They  hastened  away,  saying  they  would  bring  twenty  men 
to  search  the  woods. 


62  Tad  Jones. 

"Let  them  go,"  said  Frank.  "We  don't  need  them  ill 
this  search.  They  are  no  good,  anyway." 

"What  in  the  world  does  this  business  mean?"  asked 
Browning,  who  was  awake  at  last.  "It  is  rather  mys- 
terious." 

"It's  a  trick  to  leave  us  adrift  here !"  grated  Hodge. 
"As  soon  as  he  fancied  he  had  us  on  the  wrong  scent,  that 
fellow  Somers  deserted  us." 

"What  can  we  do?"  asked  Brucce,  helplessly. 

"Continue  the  search,"  said  Frank,  grimly.  "It  may 
be  like  hunting  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack,  but  we'll  hunt. 
It's  not  likely  we'll  find  Hans  around  here,  so  come  on." 

They  followed  him,  but  had  not  gone  far  before  a  figure 
seemed  to  arise  from  the  ground  before  them,  and  a  voice 
called : 

"Frank  Merriwell,  are  you  there?" 

"Here,"  answered  Frank,  instantly.  "What  do  you 
want  ?" 

"Want  to  see  you." 

"Look  out  for  a  trap — look  out  for  a  trick!"  panted 
Hodge,  catching  Frank's  arm.  "Perhaps  this  is  a  part 
of  the  game." 

"That's  right,"  growled  Browning.  "But  if  he  tries 
anything  funny,  he'll  never  get  away !" 

The  big  college  lad  was  thoroughly  aroused. 

"Can  I  speak  with  you,  Mr.  Merriwell?"  asked  the 
stranger. 

"Certainly,"  said  Frank,  and  then,  with  Bruce  and  Bart 
on  each  side,  he  advanced  to  meet  the  unknown. 

"How-de-do,  Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  the  one  who  had 
appeared  before  them.  "I  don't  suppose  you  remem- 
ber me?" 

In  the  darkness  he  seemed  like  a  tall,  awkward  boy  of 
sixteen  or  seventeen. 

"Can't  say  that  I  do,"  confessed  Frank. 


Tad  Jones.  63 

'Tm  Tad  Jones." 

"Jones — Tad  Jones?  Somehow  the  name  seems  famil* 
iar,  but  I  can't  seem  to  place  you." 

"Why,  I'm  the  pop-corn  boy." 

"Pop-corn  boy?    What " 

"That  is,  I  was  the  pop-corn  boy  the  first  time  you  came 
to  Fardale.  I  was  at  the  station,  and  another  fellow  by 
the  name  of  Hodge  upset  my  basket  of  corn  and  kicked  my; 
dog.  You  took  my  part." 

"And  you  are  the  same  boy  ?" 

"Sure." 

"Why,  you  were  a  little  fellow  then !  You  have  grown 
like  a  weed.  You  are  almost  as  tall  as  I." 

"I  think  it's  the  same  boy,  Merry,"  said  Hodge.  "I  can 
see  there  is  something  familiar  about  him." 

"What  can  I  do  for  you,"  asked  Frank. 

"I'm  here  to  do  something  for  you,"  said  Tad  Jones. 
"You  was  my  friend  a  long  time  ago,  and  now  I'm  goin* 
to  try  to  do  something  to  square  up  with  you.  I  know 
what  you  want  to  know." 

"What  is  that?'  ' 

"Where  the  feller  that's  missin'— the  Dutch  boy— has 
been  taken." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  RESCUE. 

Instantly  Frank  sprang  forward  and  caught  the  arm  of 
fTad  Jones,  crying : 

"You  know  where  to  find  Hans  Dunnerwust  ?" 

"You  bet!" 

"How  do  you  know  ?" 

"I  ought  to — I  was  one  of  the  crowd  that  carried 
him  off." 

"The  dickens  you  were !" 

"I  was.  Didn't  know  he  was  one  of  your  friends  then, 
though.  Didn't  know  at  first  who  was  to  be  carried  off. 
Harding  got  up  the  party,  and  he  said  it  was  just  a  little 
lark — no  harm  in  it.  He  had  a  friend,  Reynolds,  who 
used  to  be  a  cadet,  and  we  was  to  come  over  here  and  have 
some  fun  with  a  plebe.  That's  what  we  thought.  Rey- 
nolds said  the  yearlings  would  turn  the  plebe  over  to  us, 
and  we  could  have  sport  with  him." 

"So  that  is  it!  Well,  we  had  it  all  figured  out.  We 
reckoned  that  Reynolds  and  Harding  were  in  the  game. 
How  many  of  them  were  there  all  together  ?" 

"Six,  with  me." 

"How  did  you  get  hold  of  Dunnerwust?" 

"He  was  passed  out  to  us  by  the  cadets.  The  guards 
turned  their  backs  and  did  not  see  what  was  going  on. 
We  grabbed  him  and  hustled  away." 

"I  thought  that  was  the  trick,"  said  Frank.  "But  how 
do  you  happen  to  be  here  now  ?" 

"When  we  got  him  to  the  old  hut  in  the  woods  the  blan- 
ket was  took  off  his  head,  and  Reynolds  and  Harding  saw 
\vho  he  was.  Then  they  was  hoppin'  mad,  and  I  found  out 


The  Rescue.  65 

for  the  first  time  just  what  sort  of  a  game  they  was  up  to, 
for  they  was  mad  because  the  Dutchman  wasn't  you,  Mr. 
Merriwell." 

"Jingoes !"  exclaimed  Frank.  "So  the  game  was  to  kid- 
nap me,  and  a  mistake  was  made!  Well,  this  is  inter- 
esting !" 

"I  should  say  so,"  came  from  Browning. 

"Reynolds  swore  like  fury,"  continued  Tad  Jones. 
"Then  he  said  he'd  give  it  to  the  feller  they  had.  Both  he 
and  Harding  was  so  mad  it  seemed  as  if  they  wanted  to 
kill  the  Dutchman.  I  was  scared,  and  I  got  out  in  a  hurry. 
I  heard  you  callin'  in  the  woods  up  there,  and  so  I  stopped 
here.  As  you  was  comin'  along,  I  thought  I  knew  youi; 
voice,  and  that's  why  I  spoke." 

"You  know  just  where  they  have  taken  Hans?" 

"Sure." 

"Then  lead  us  there  in  a  hurry." 

"That's  right  1"  panted  Hodge.  "All  we  want  is  to  gel 
at  that  gang !" 

"But  they  are  five  to  your  three.  I  won't  dare  let  'em 
know  I  had  anything  to  do  with  this,  though  I  ran  away* 
They'd  kill  me !"  '  t 

"If  they  were  ten  to  our  three  it  would  make  no  differ"; 
ence,"  came  from  Frank.  "We'll  rescue  Hans !' !'  j 

"We  will !"  growled  Browning.  "Oh,  I  am  aching  fofi 
a  good,  old-fashioned  fight !  Hurry  up !" 

Tad  Jones  took  the  lead.  They  passed  the  southern  end 
of  the  strip  of  woods  in  which  they  had  searched  and  went 
beyond  to  another  dark  and  swampy  section,  where  tall 
trees  grew,  covered  with  clinging  vines,  and  one  needed  to 
know  the  way  perfectly  to  get  along  at  all.  It  was  plain 
to  the  Yale  lads  that  they  could  not  have  penetrated  the 
swamp  without  a  guide. 

After  a  time  they  saw  a  gleam  of  light  in  advance,  and 
Tad  Jones  told  them  the  old  hut  was  there. 


66  The  Rescue. 

"I  ain't  goin'  any  nearer,"  he  said.  "I  don't  propose  to 
have  Win  Harding  see  me !" 

"Come  on !"  whispered  Frank. 

"Lead  on!"  hissed  Bart. 

They  advanced.  As  they  came  nearer,  they  saw  the 
light  was  shining  from  a  broken  window  of  the  old  hut. 
They  heard  the  sound  of  voices.  Frank  halted  one  mo- 
ment, and  in  that  moment  came  a  loud  cry  of  pain,  and 
OHans  was  heard  to  scream : 

"Murter !  Oh,  shimminy  Gristmas !  don't  kildt  me 
tieat!" 

Like  a  tiger  Frank  Merriwell  leaped  forward,  with  Bart 
and  Bruce  following  closely.  Like  a  fury  he  hurled  him- 
self against  the  door  of  the  hut  and  burst  into  the  room. 

What  Frank  saw  made  his  blood  leap  like  fire  through 
his  veins.  Hans  Dunnerwust  was  stripped  to  the  waist 
and  tied  with  his  face  against  the  wall,  while,  in  a  posi- 
tion to  strike,  with  a  long  switch  lifted,  was  a  person  who 
wore  a  mask  over  his  face. 

With  a  shout  of  rage  Frank  leaped  at  the  throat  of  the 
fellow  with  the  switch,  and  they  grappled  in  fierce  combat. 
There  proved  to  be  five  persons  in  the  room  besides  Hans, 
and  one  of  them  wore  a  cadet  uniform,  with  a  corporal's 
chevrons  on  his  sleeves.  His  face  was  hidden  by  a  hand- 
kerchief. 

Bart  and  Bruce  sailed  into  the  gang.  Bart  was  an  in- 
furiated animal;  Bruce  was  a  gladiator  The  big  fellow 
began  to  swing  his  huge  fists,  and  down  went  whoever  was 
struck  by  them. 

The  fight  did  not  last  long.  The  torch  which  served 
to  light  the  room  was  dashed  to  the  floor  and  trampled  out, 
casting  the  place  into  blank  darkness.  For  some  mo- 
ments the  struggle  continued,  but  ended  suddenly. 

Frank  called  to  his  friends,  and  they  answered.  A 
match  was  lighted,  and  it  showed  that  Hans'  captors  had 


The  Rescue.  67 

taken  flight.  The  torch  was  lighted,  and  the  unlucky 
Dutch  boy  was  set  at  liberty. 

"Dank  der  goot  Lort  you  habbened  to  found  me  shust 
as  I  did !"  he  cried.  "I  vos  peen  switched  mit  der  pack  on 
dirty  dimes,  und  I  shust  got  der  virst  one.  Id  britty  near 
cutted  der  pack  uf  me  in  two  bieces !  Yaw !" 

"It's  a  shame  those  fellows  all  escaped,"  said  Frank. 
"If  we  could  have  captured  one  of  them,  we'd  made  him 
tell  the  names  of  the  whole  gang." 

"Tad  Jones  will  tell." 

"But  he  doesn't  know  the  name  of  the  fellow  in  the 
cadet  uniform,  for  that  fellow  was  not  here  when  he 
skipped." 

"Did  you  see  the  chevrons?"  panted  Hodge. 

"Yes.  Of  course,  that  chap  was  the  one  we  lost  over  in 
the  other  strip  of  woods.  He  came  here  to  take  part  in 
the  fun.  But  I  don't  know  how  we  will  prove  that.  At 
the  same  time,  I  think  we  can  fix  him  so  he  will  keep  still 
in  the  future." 

Then  they  returned  to  camp. 


On  the  following  day,  at  the  first  opportunity,  Frank 
Merriwell  called  Corp.  Somers  aside,  and  said : 

"Just  one  word  with  you.  There  is  a  limit,  and  it  has 
been  reached.  I  know  just  what  you  had  to  do  with  the 
affair  last  night,  but  I  have  no  desire  to  injure  you  and  I 
shall  not  push  you.  But  you  want  to  understand  that  the 
limit  is  reached." 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  Somers,  looking  rather  pale,  "I 
trust  you  do  not  accuse  me  of " 

"I  accuse  you  of  nothing.  I  say  I  know  just  what  you 
had  to  do  with  the  affair,  and  I  can  expose  you,  if  I 
choose.  Dunnerwust  was  not  injured,  save  for  a  red 
streak  where  he  was  struck  the  first  time,  and  I  prefer  to 


68  The  Rescue. 

let  the  matter  drop  rather  than  create  a  scandal  in  the 
school  and  cause  the  expulsion  of  the  ones  concerned  in  the 
outrage.  I  did  not  come  here  to  make  a  disturbance,  but  to 
have  a  pleasant  time.  As  for  Reynolds,  Harding  and  their 
friends,  I  have  them  foul,  and  I  may  not  show  them  so 
much  mercy.  That  is  all." 

Without  another  word  he  whirled  on  his  heel  and  walked 
away. 

Cadet  Corp.  Somers  began  to  feel  that  he  was  lucky 
to  get  off  so  easily. 

Frank  found  that  he  could  not  punish  Harding  and 
Reynolds  without  bringing  Tad  Jones  into  the  affair,  and 
Tad  begged  him  not  to  do  that,  for  he  lived  in  a  house  that 
belonged  to  Win's  father,  and  Mr.  Harding  would  be  sure 
to  turn  his  folks  out  of  doors. 

So  Merry  held  his  hand  for  the  time,  but  he  let  Hard- 
ing and  Reynolds  know  that  above  their  heads  a  sword  was 
suspended  by  a  single  hair. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    BEAUTIFUL   SHOT. 

Click-click. 

"Thirty-seven,"  counted  the  marker,  sliding  up  another 
button  on  Bart  Hodge's  string. 

"Go  it !"  laughed  Frank.  "Thirteen  more  wins  the 
game." 

He  was  sitting  in  a  comfortable  chair,  cue  in  hand, 
watching  with  interest  the  skillful  manner  in  which  Hodge 
juggled  with  the  billiard  balls. 

"Look  avay  oudt,  Vrankie,"  advised  Hans,  who  was  gaz- 
ing with  astonishment  at  the  wonderful  work  of  Hodge. 
"Py  shimminy !  I  don'd  seen  vere  you  got  dhis  game  into 
ad  all." 

"You  might  as  well  put  up  your  cue,  Merry,"  grunted 
Bruce.  "Hodge  will  run  off  fifty  without  stopping." 

"Perhaps  not,"  smiled  Frank.  "It's  hard  to  tell  about 
those  things.  He  may  slip  up  when  such  a  thing  seems 
least  likely." 

"What  if  he  does  ?  Look  at  the  start  he  has.  You  can't 
hope  to  win  this  game." 

"Not  unless  I  should  run  it  out  the  first  play." 

"I  don't  believe  you  could  do  that." 

"I  might." 

As  Frank  said  this,  somebody  laughed  derisively  among 
the  spectators  who  were  watching  the  game,  which  was 
taking  place  in  the  billiard  room  of  the  Fardale  Social 
Association. 

Frank  looked  round  quickly,  to  see  who  had  laughed, 
but  did  not  discover  the  person  among  the  several  club 
members  who  were  watching  the  game. 


70  A  Beautiful  Shot. 

"It's  plain  somebody  thinks  I  have  very  little  show  to 
do  that  trick,  even  if  I  have  an  opportunity,"  he  said. 
"Well,  that  may  be  right.  I  am  not  in  practice." 

"Could  you  if  you  were  ?"  asked  a  voice,  and  the  dandy 
of  the  town  stepped  forward,  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of 
his  trousers. 

This  was  Edward  Clair,  known  as  "Elegant  Ed"  in  the 
town,  as  he  was  a  swell  dresser,  from  the  patent  leathers 
on  his  feet  to  the  silk  hat  on  his  head. 

Clair  was  one  of  the  finest  billiard  players  in  Fardale. 
In  fact,  he  was  an  expert  at  all  sorts  of  games  of  chance 
and  skill,  and  it  was  known  that  he  used  his  skill  to  fleece 
of  their  money  those  who  were  not  his  match,  but  who 
dared  to  bet  money  on  themselves. 

Elegant  Ed  did  not  do  much  gambling  in  Fardale,  for 
his  skill  was  too  well  known  there,  and  there  were  no  op- 
ponents worth  fleecing,  as  he  considered  them;  but  he 
frequently  left  home  and  was  away  several  days  or  several 
weeks,  as  it  might  happen,  and  he  always  returned  well 
supplied  with  money.  It  was  said  that  he  went  away  to 
some  of  the  large  cities,  where  he  could  get  into  any  sort 
of  a  game  he  desired. 

For  all  that  he  had  this  reputation,  Ed  Clair  was  not 
an  outcast  in  Fardale  society.  He  came  of  one  of  the  best 
families  in  the  place,  and  one  of  his  ancestors  was  the 
founder  of  the  town.  His  mother  was  honored  and  re- 
spected by  all  who  knew  her,  and  she  was  able  to  hold  him 
up  to  a  great  extent. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  a  fellow  who  is  known  to  be 
something  of  a  rake,  but  never  has  been  caught  in  anything 
bad,  and  is  polished  and  gentlemanly  in  his  manners,  often 
seems  very  popular  in  a  country  village.  Young  men  and 
boys  admire  him,  and  young  ladies  and  girls  smile  on  him 
and  flutter  around  him  as  a  moth  flutters  around  a  flame. 
It  is  a  false  popularity,  for  let  him  be  called  to  account  for 


A  Beautiful  Shot.  71 

some  of  his  acts  and  the  whole  truth  become  publicly 
known  and  the  very  ones  who  have  hovered  near  him  the 
most  are  the  first  to  shun  him  and  condemn  him.  The  mo- 
ment this  happens,  the  moment  he  begins  to  see  his  former 
friends  turning  their  backs  on  him,  he  grows  desperate  and 
reckless.  It  is  all  out  at  last,  everybody  knows  what  he 
is,  so  why  should  he  try  to  hide  the  facts  longer.  In  anger 
he  makes  his  acts  still  more  reprehensible,  and  down  the 
hill  he  goes  with  amazing  swiftness,  while  not  a  hand 
seems  outstretched  to  save  him.  Should  such  a  hand  be 
held  out  to  him,  it  is  more  than  probable  he  will  reject  the 
proffered  assistance  with  such  scorn  and  indignation  that 
no  second  attempt  will  be  made  to  check  his  downward 
career.  And  it  does  not  take  long  to  reach  the  bottom  of 
the  hill. 

Merry  looked  Elegant  Ed  over  and  took  an  immediate 
dislike  to  him,  but  was  polite  enough  to  answer  his  ques- 
tion, still  smiling: 

"I  don't  know  as  I  could  win  this  game  if  I  had  an  op- 
portunity, but  I  should  try.  You  know  they  say  Try  was 
never  beaten.'  " 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  but  you  thought  yourself  a  billiard 
player,"  said  Ed,  in  an  offensive  way.  "Sometimes  such 
fellows  find  their  way  in  here." 

Hodge  had  been  studying  a  shot,  and  now,  with  the  ut- 
most care,  making  it  easily  and  gracefully. 

"If  you  had  taken  three  cushions  instead  of  two,  you 
would  have  left  yourself  a  set-up,"  said  Clair.  "Now  the 
balls  are  split.  It  looked  to  me  like  a  scratch  shot,  any- 
way." 

Bart  wheeled  like  a  panther  on  the  dandy  of  the  town, 
his  eyes  flashing  and  his  face  dark. 

"Are  you  in  this  game?"  he  asked,  harshly.  "If  you 
are  not,  I'll  thank  you  to  keep  still  while  I  am  playing,  sir !" 


72  A  Beautiful  Shot. 

Ed  was  surprised,  but  he  laughed,  although  a  flush  came 
to  his  face. 

"Touchy,"  he  said.  "I  beg  your  pardon.  Didn't  sup- 
pose you  were  so  easily  disturbed.  Never  will  make  a  bil- 
liard player  unless  you  can  control  your  temper." 

Then  he  took  out  a  gold-mounted  cigarette  case,  ex- 
tracted a  cigarette,  rolled  it  in  his  hands,  pulled  a  little 
tobacco  from  one  end,  and  lighted  it  with  a  wax  match, 
taken  from  an  elaborate  and  costly  match  safe,  that  was 
hitched  to  one  end  of  his  double  watch  chain. 

Hodge  waited  a  few  seconds  to  cool  down  after  his  flash 
of  anger,  for  he  realized  that  his  nerves  were  quivering, 
but  when  he  attempted  the  next  shot  he  missed  cleanly, 
much  to  his  disgust.  As  he  stepped  back  from  the  table 
he  gave  Clair  a  look  of  anger,  which  caused  the  fellow  to 
laugh  and  show  his  white  teeth. 

Merriwell  chalked  his  cue  and  prepared  to  play.  Hodge 
had  left  the  balls  in  a  bad  position,  and  he  considered  which 
was  the  better  of  two  ways  to  play. 

"He  is  studying  over  that,"  murmured  Clair  to  a  man 
near  him.  "I'll  bet  he'll  miss  it  cleanly." 

Frank  heard  the  words  distinctly,  but  he  smiled  as  pleas- 
antly as  if  he  had  received  a  compliment,  while  he  turned 
to  Ed,  observing: 

"You  haven't  seen  me  play  yet,  so  you  should  not  form 
such  a  hasty  conclusion.  Not  only  will  I  not  miss  the  shot, 
but  I'll  gather  the  balls  on  the  farther  rail  two-thirds  of 
the  way  down  for  a  set-up  next  time." 

"Whew !"  whistled  Ed,  lifting  his  eyebrows.  "You  have 
nerve  to  think  you  can  do  that.  You  must  be  an  expert  in 
disguise." 

"Vale,  you  vill  found  oudt  britty  quickness  he  vos  a 
derror,"  said  Hans,  confidently. 

"I  am  no  expert,  and  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  anything 


A  Beautiful  Shot.  73 

more  than  an  amateur,"  said  Merry,  as  placidly  as  ever. 
"But  that  shot  is  simple.  I  shall  play  on  the  red,  striking 
it  hard  enough  to  drive  it  across  the  table  and  back  again ; 
then,  after  taking  three  cushions,  the  cue  ball  will  strike 
the  spot-white  on  this  side,  about  a  quarter  full,  which  will 
place  it  close  to  the  rail  within  four  inches  of  the  red.  The 
cue  ball  having  plenty  of  English,  will  rebound  to  this 
cushion,  and  that  will  send  it  down  the  table  a  little  over 
two-thirds  of  the  distance.  It  should  stop  within  six  inches 
of  this  spot." 

Frank  pointed  to  the  spot  on  the  lower  end  of  the  table. 

Clair  whistled  again,  and  then  burst  into  hearty,  derisive 
laughter. 

"Hear  the  boy ! !"  he  cried.  "Why  the  champion  him- 
self would  not  think  of  calling  a  shot  that  way !  He'd 
know  better,  for  he'd  realize  that  the  chances  were  more 
than  a  hundred  to  one  that  he  could  not  make  it  with 
accurate  perfection  so  as  to  place  the  balls  at  indicated 
points  on  the  table.  Wait  a  minute,  and  we'll  have  a  good 
laugh  at  the  expense  of  this  young  gentleman  with  the 
colossal  gall." 

Hodge  had  taken  a  chair,  but  now  he  leaped  to  his  feet, 
crying : 

"I'll  bet  you  ten  dollars  Merriwell  makes  that  shot  just 
as  he  has  named  it.  Put  up,  or  shut  up !" 

"You  are  excited,"  said  Clair.  "I  don't  wish  to  rob 
you." 

"Here  is  my  money !"  exclaimed  Hodge.  "Put  up,  or 
shut  up!" 

"Really,  I " 

"Then  keep  still  if  you  have  not  the  nerve  to  back  up 
your  talk !" 

"If  you  really  insist  on  making  me  a  present  of  ten  dol- 
lars I  presume  I  shall  be  forced  to  take  it.  It  seems  too 


74  A  Beautiful  Shot. 

bad.  If  I  should  take  it,  I'd  have  to  give  it  back  to  you 
to  keep  you  from  breaking  your  heart  over  it." 

"If  you  win  it,  you  will  keep  it,  sir !"  snarled  Bart,  who 
seemed  angry  enough  to  fly  at  Clair.  "But  you  won't  win. 
All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  keep  your  mouth  closed  after  this 
shot." 

The  money  was  staked,  and  then  Merriwell  again  ex- 
plained what  he  proposed  to  do,  so  there  could  be  no  mis- 
understanding. 

There  was  some  excitement  in  that  room,  for  this  was 
different  from  the  quiet  little  games  played  there  usually. 
All  gathered  in  a  good  position  to  watch  the  shot. 

When  everything  was  ready,  Frank  stepped  up  to  the 
table,  assumed  an  easy  position  for  cueing,  and  made  the 
stroke  with  what  seemed  to  be  extreme  carelessness. 

The  moment  he  struck  the  ball  two-thirds  of  those  look- 
ing on  felt  sure  he  had  lost,  for  it  did  not  seem  that  he  had 
used  sufficient  force.  But  Frank  was  playing  with  a 
twenty-ounce  cue,  and  he  had  played  on  the  top  of  the  cue 
ball  with  all  the  English  he  could  command. 

Across  the  table  spun  the  red,  returning  at  an  angle  that 
caused  it  to  stop  just  where  Merriwell  had  said  it  would, 
not  two  inches  from  the  rail. 

But  it  was  the  cue  ball  that  all  eyes  watched.  Up  the 
table  it  went,  rebounding  from  the  first  cushion  with  a 
whirling  motion. 

"Missed  by  six  inches!"  exclaimed  some  one. 

But  Clair,  who  understood  more  thoroughly  the  effect 
of  English,  saw  instantly  that  Merriwell  would  make  the 
shot,  although  he  still  doubted  if  the  balls  would  stop  in 
the  positions  indicated.  It  was  wonderful  how  the  cue 
ball  rolled  with  so  little  force  behind  it.  When  it  touched 
the  second  cushion  it  gave  a  jump  for  the  third.  Round 
behind  the  spot-white  it  came,  striking-  it  precisely  as 
Frank  had  said  it  would  when  it  left  the  third  cushion* 


A  Beautiful  Shot.  75 

Down  the  table  rolled  the  spot-white,  touched  the  rail 
gently,  and  lodged  beside  the  red,  about  four  inches  away. 
The  cue  ball  rebounded  to  the  cushion,  still  with  that 
twisting  motion,  came  off  instantly,  rolled  gently  down  the 
table,  and  stopped  within  one  inch  of  the  spot ! 


CHAPTER  XL 

FINE  WORK. 

A  burst  of  hearty  applause  and  cries  of  admiration  came 
from  the  witnesses.  Elegant  Ed  applauded  with  the 
others,  his  face  wreathed  in  smiles. 

"Beautifully  done,"  he  admitted,  when  the  noise  had  sub- 
sided. "It  is  not  possible  to  call  that  a  scratch,  but,  of 
course,  there  was  a  great  element  of  chance  in  it.  Had 
the  cue  ball  struck  the  spot-white  any  way  different  than 
it  did,'  the  set-up  named  could  not  have  come.  When  a 
player  takes  three  cushions  and  then  strikes  a  ball  pre- 
cisely as  he  had  said  he  would,  he  is  doing  great  work." 

"Oh,  dot  peen  nottings  ad  all  vor  Vrankie !"  cried  Hans 
Dunnerwust,  enthusiastically.  "He  vos  a  lulu !  Yaw !" 

Hodge  took  the  money  he  had  won,  and,  grinning  an- 
grily at  Clair,  thrust  it  into  his  pocket. 

Bruce  Browning  looked  satisfied,  but  not  at  all  sur- 
prised. His  manner  seemed  to  indicate  that  he  had  seen 
nothing  more  than  he  expected  to  see. 

"I  have  noticed,"  murmured  Elegant  Ed,  blowing  out 
the  smoke  he  had  inhaled  and  letting  a  little  escape  from 
his  mouth  as  he  spoke,  so  that  a  bit  of  smoke  came  with 
each  word — "I  have  noticed  that  the  fellow  who  can  make 
those  pyrotechnic  shots  round  the  table  is  seldom  a  good 
billiard  player.  He  likes  to  show  his  skill  in  going  round 
the  table,  and  so  he  will  not  hold  the  balls  together.  Cer- 
tainly I  do  not  know  as  that  is  the  rule,  but  it  has  held 
good  as  far  as  my  observation  goes." 

Frank  knew  the  dandy  of  the  town  was  talking  for  his 
benefit,  but  it  did  not  ruffle  him  in  the  least.  Having  gath- 
ered the  balls,  he  proceeded  to  hold  them  on  the  rail,  while 


'Fine  Work.  77 

he  worked  them  up  the  table,  making  shot  after  shot  with  a 
delicacy  of  touch  and  an  accuracy  that  surprised  even  Bart 
Hodge,  who  had  seen  him  play  before. 

A  mere  touch  of  the  tip  of  the  cue  against  the  cue  ball 
seemed  enough  to  enable  Frank  to  give  it  just  the  motion 
he  wanted,  and  the  cue  ball  always  struck  the  other  balls 
so  they  followed  each  other  along,  rolling  together  in  a 
marvelous  manner. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  spectators  began  to  realize  that 
the  handsome  lad  at  the  table  was  cool  as  ice  and  wonder- 
fully skillful.  The  manner  in  which  he  held  the  object 
balls  together  seemed  magical,  and,  although  the  excite- 
ment was  intense,  scarcely  the  sound  of  a  breath  could  be 
heard  in  that  room.  The  clicking  of  the  balls  and  Frank's 
quiet  steps  as  he  walked  round  the  table  were  the  only 
sounds  to  disturb  the  almost  oppressive  silence. 

From  ten  points,  Frank  ran  deliberately  up  to  twenty, 
then  to  thirty,  and,  without  betraying  the  least  nervousness 
or  acting  as  if  he  were  making  an  unusual  run,  he  started 
after  forty. 

By  this  time  he  had  carried  the  balls  up  into  the  corner, 
where  he  was  holding  them.  At  the  thirty-third  shot,  how- 
ever, he  split  the  object  balls,  so  they  lay  more  than  a 
foot  apart,  apparently  with  no  possible  prospect  of  keeping 
them  longer  in  that  corner. 

Elegant  Ed  laughed. 

"I  knew  it  must  come  sooner  or  later,"  he  observed. 

Merriwell  chalked  his  cue,  studying  the  position  of  the 
balls,  a  quiet  smile  on  his  face. 

"I  rather  think  I  shall  be  able  to  hold  them  in  that  cor- 
ner a  while  longer,"  he  said. 

Again  the  dandy  of  the  town  laughed. 

"If  you  try  it,  I  rather  fancy  you  will  find  you  have 
bitten  off  more  than  you  can  chew.  The  proper  shot  is  to 
hit  the  spot  ball  first  and  drive  both  spot  and  red  over  to 


78  Fine  Work. 

this  cushion.  Then  you  may  be  able  to  run  them  down  the 
rail  and  gather  them  in  a  corner  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
table." 

He  said  this  in  a  manner  that  was  the  essence  of  in- 
solence, but  Frank  did  not  seem  to  mind  him  at  all,  al- 
though Bart  Hodge  turned  ashen  with  anger,  finding  it 
hard  to  remain  silent. 

"Thank  you  for  your  kindness,"  said  Merry,  pleasantly, 
at  the  same  time  giving  his  words  a  bit  of  a  sting;  "but 
I'll  endeavor  to  show  you  that  there  is  a  way  to  hold  the 
balls  in  that  corner.  There  are  more  ways  than  one  to 
make  this  shot,  and  no  man  knows  it  all." 

"Some  boys  think  they  know  it  all,"  said  Ed,  lighting 
a  fresh  cigarette.  "How  are  you  going  to  hold  them  in  the 
corner  ?" 

"I  shall  hit  the  red  first,  with  force  enough  to  drive  it 
round  the  table  so  it  will  return  to  the  same  corner." 

"That's  all  right;  but  you  can't  make  that  shot  without 
hitting  the  spot  ball  so  hard  that  it  will  be  driven  out  of 
the  corner." 

"We'll  see." 

Frank  made  the  shot  with  care,  and  yet  with  seeming 
carelessness.  The  red  spun  down  the  table,  came  rolling 
gently  back  and  stopped  in  the  corner  where  Frank  wished 
to  keep  it. 

In  the  meantime,  for  all  the  apparent  force  with  which 
the  cue  ball  had  struck  the  red,  all  the  force  in  Merriwell's 
ball  seemed  taken  away  by  the  one  it  hit.  It  rolled  over 
a  few  times  in  a  reluctant  manner,  brushed  the  spot  ball 
gently,  and  lay  still. 

When  it  was  over,  the  balls  lay  gathered  in  the  corner 
where  Merry  wished  to  hold  them. 

There  was  a  burst  of  applause,  for  all  present  realized 
that  Frank  had  caused  the  cue  ball  to  strike  the  red  so 
that  die  latter  took  all  its  force,  which  made  it  possible  for 


Fine  Work.  79 

the  white  to  roll  down  and  brush  the  spot  without  dis- 
turbing it  and  brought  the  red  round  the  table  to  position. 

"Vot  you  dinks?"  shouted  the  Dutch  lad.  "Dot  Merri- 
vell  vos  a  shuggler !  You  seen  him  shuggle  mit  der  palls, 
eh?  Vale,  he  done  dot  all  der  dime  ven  you  don'd  ox- 
bected  him  to.  Yaw !" 

Bart  Hodge  laughed,  looking  straight  at  Clair,  and  that 
laugh  was  full  of  ridicule. 

Big  Bruce  Browning  sleepily  murmured : 

"That  was  too  easy!  Give  him  something  hard,  and 
he'll  show  you  what  he  can  do." 

"You  are  having  great  luck,"  said  Elegant  Ed,  still 
seeming  quite  as  much  unruffled  as  Frank. 

"I  fail  to  see  where  the  luck  comes  in,"  laughed  Merry. 

"Why,  that  was  a  luck  shot.  If  you  had  struck  the  red 
ball  a  hair  differently  your  ball  would  have  stopped  dead 
and  the  red  would  not  have  taken  the  cushions  right  to 
come  back  into  that  corner." 

"But  I  did  not  strike  it  a  hair  differently,  and  I  told  you 
what  I  would  do,  so  I  do  not  understand  where  the  luck 
comes  in." 

"Oh,  there  was  no  skill  in  that  shot,  Merriwell !"  growled 
Hodge,  glaring  at  Clair.  "You're  a  blacksmith !  You 
could  shut  your  eyes  and  do  just  as  well !"  And  then  he 
added :  "I  mean  you  could  shut  your  eyes  and  do  just  as 
well  as  the  individual  who  is  criticising  you." 

Ed  breathed  out  a  thin  cloud  of  smoke  and  looked  at 
Bart  with  a  smile. 

"Growls  like  a  dog  over  a  bone,"  he  said,  as  if  murmur- 
ing to  himself.  "Thinks  he  is  savage.  Very  amusing — 
very." 

Bart  was  furious  enough  to  fly  at  the  dandy  of  the 
town,  but  a  look  from  Frank  restrained  him.  He  relapsed 
into  silence,  although  he  continued  to  glare  at  Ele- 
gant Ed. 


80  Fine  Work. 

Frank  went  on  with  the  game,  holding  the  balls  in  the 
corner.  He  reached  forty  and  had  them  anchored.  It 
seemed  absolutely  certain  that  he  would  run  the  game  out 
without  disturbing  them. 

Bart  Hodge  ceased  to  glare  at  Clair,  and  began  to  look 
satisfied,  even  though  he  was  being  beaten.  Hans  Dun- 
nerwust  was  grinning  all  over  his  face,  which  was  growing 
fat  once  more,  since  he  had  escaped  from  the  horrors  of  a 
Brooklyn  restaurant.  A  look  of  lazy  pleasure  overspread 
Browning's  countenance. 

Elegant  Ed  continued  to  smoke,  lighting  cigarette  after 
cigarette.  He  seemed  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  say 
something,  but  it  did  not  look  as  if  he  would  find  the  op- 
portunity to  say  what  he  desired. 

Forty-five,  forty-six,  forty-seven,  forty-eight — hello! 
something  happened.  The  balls  rolled  bad,  having  broken 
from  anchor  in  the  corner.  Forty-nine — Frank  made  it ! 
One  more  was  needed  to  finish  the  game. 

One  more  was  wanted,  but  the  balls  were  on  a  line  on  the 
tipper  rail,  with  the  spot-white  and  the  red  packed  into 
the  corner. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A   WAGER. 

This  seemed  to  be  the  opportunity  for  which  Ed  Clair 
fiad  been  waiting.  He  flung  aside  his  cigarette,  laughed 
and  said : 

"It's  too  bad !" 

Frank  chalked  his  cue. 

"Too  bad !"  Ed  repeated.  "Another  point  would  have 
won  the  game." 

"Another  point  will  win  the  game,"  said  Merry. 

"But  not  on  this  run." 

"Why  not?" 

"You  can't  make  it." 

"Nor  you !"  cried  Hodge,  leaping  to  his  feet.  "I'll  bet 
you  ten  dollars  you  can't — I'll  bet  you  anything  you  like. 
I'll  bet  fifty  dollars,  if  you  want  to !" 

"Sit  down ;  you're  excited,"  smiled  Clair,  with  a  gesture 
of  ridicule.  "I  didn't  say  I  could  make  it.  It  can  be  done, 
but  it  is  not  a  sure  shot." 

"It  must  be  made  cushion  first,"  said  Frank. 

"Of  course.  You  must  go  directly  down  the  table  for 
it,  coming  back  almost  as  straight  as  you  can.  As  all  the 
balls  are  frozen  to  the  cushion,  a  variation  of  a  quarter  of 
an  inch  will  ruin  the  shot.  You  must  strike  both  at  the 
same  time  if  you  want  to  make  it." 

"Thank  you  for  your  kind  advice,"  said  Frank.  "As 
you  observed  a  short  time  ago,  some  persons  think  they 
know  it  all.  I  fancy  there  is  another  and  a  better  way  to 
make  the  shot." 

"What  ?  Well,  that  is  a  joke !  Why,  it's  the  only  way ! 
You  must  take  the  cushion  first." 


82  A  Wager. 

"Yes,  but  you  say  go  directly  down  the  table  and  come 
directly  back.  That  is  the  part  of  the  arrangement  I  do 
not  agree  to." 

"But  it  can't  be  played  differently.  There  is  no  chance 
to  get  under  your  ball  for  good  and  effective  English,  and 
even  if  there  were,  English  is  useless  on  such  a  shot." 

"I  am  going  round  the  table  with  plenty  of  English,  tak- 
ing the  side  cushion  first,"  said  Frank. 

Elegant  Ed  laughed  heartily. 

"Now  you  will  make  yourself  ridiculous,"  he  said. 
"Don't  try  it.  Play  the  shot  in  a  sensible  manner,  and  you 
•will  stand  a  show  of  getting  it.  As  you  propose  to  play  it, 
you  have  no  show  at  all." 

"Well,  then,  I'll  play  it  the  way  there  is  no  show." 

Frank  had  chalked  his  cue  with  the  greatest  care.  A 
miscue  now  would  ruin  everything.  He  stood  on  his  tip- 
toes at  the  end  of  the  table  and  made  the  shot,  striking  the 
cushion  on  the  side  near  the  balls.  Then  it  was  seen  that 
he  had  found  a  way  to  give  the  cue  ball  a  most  astonishing 
amount  of  English.  It  whirled  off  the  cushion,  flew  to  the 
end  of  the  table,  cut  across  the  corner  and  came  spinning 
"back  with  a  rotary  motion.  At  first  it  seemed  that  it 
would  not  strike  within  a  foot  of  the  balls  in  the  corner, 
but  the  whirling  motion  kept  carrying  it  nearer  and  nearer 
to  a  line  for  the  corner. 

At  last  it  passed  the  line — it  must  strike  the  cushion 
against  which  it  had  been  played  at  the  outset. 

Bart  sat  down,  feeling  wonderfully  disappointed.  He 
had  hoped  Frank  would  make  the  shot,  and  now 

There  was  a  great  burst  of  applause — a  great  shout. 
The  cue  ball  had  struck  the  side  cushion  close  to  the  cor- 
ner, but  struck  it  so  close  that  when  it  came  off  from  the 
cushion  it  hit  both  object  balls,  and  Frank  had  made  the 
shot  successfully. 


A  Wager.  83 

Frank  smiled  as  calmly  as  if  he  had  not  believed  any 
other  result  possible. 

For  the  first  time  Elegant  Ed  showed  a  trace  of  chagrin. 
He  gnawed  at  his  light  mustache,  but  did  not  join  in  the 
applause.  When  all  was  quiet,  he  said : 

"That  was  merely  a  chance  shot.  The  best  billiard  play- 
ers would  not  have  played  it  that  way."  I 

"Perhaps  not,"  admitted  Frank;  "but  I  am  simply  an 
amateur.  I  do  not  play  billiards  much." 

"I  presume  not,"  came  from  Ed,  in  a  manner  that 
plainly  expresed  disbelief  of  Merriwell's  words.  "Still  you 
seem  to  have  an  idea  that  you  know  something  about  the 
game." 

"He  knows  enough  about  the  game  to  beat  anybody  in 
this  town  1"  flared  Hodge. 

"Really !"  laughed  Clair. 

"Yes,  really !"  blazed  Hodge. 

"Because  he  beat  you,  you  mustn't  think  he  can  wipe  up 
the  earth  with  everybody,  my  boy.  He  is  not  the  only  shirt 
in  the  laundry ;  he  can  be  done  up." 

"Not  by  anybody  in  Fardale." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !" 

"Well,  I  do  know!" 

Hodge  was  boiling  with  anger.  There  was  something 
about  Ed  Clair  that  aroused  him  to  a  high  pitch  of  rage. 
He  felt  an  intense  longing  to  strike  the  clean,  handsome 
fellow  in  the  face,  but  this  desire  he  crushed  down. 

Browning,  seeing  how  excited  Hodge  was  getting, 
sought  to  restrain  him,  but  Bart  ordered  the  big  fellow  to 
"shut  up,"  and  walked  nearer  to  the  dandy  of  the  town. 

"Where  is  the  chap  who  can  beat  Merriwell  at  bil- 
liards ?"  Hodge  asked. 

"He  is  not  very  far  away,"  said  Elegant  Ed. 

Hodge  was  certain  Clair  meant  himself,  and  Bart  did 
not  believe  the  fellow  could  beat  Merriwell. 


84  A  Wager. 

"Bring  him  out,"  said  Hodge.  "I  want  to  see  this  re- 
markable person.  I'd  like  to  make  some  talk  to  him." 

"You  can  talk  to  me." 

"Oh,  you  are  the  one!  Well,  talk  about  crust!  You 
have  nerve  to  let,  and  that  is  right !" 

"I  did  not  say  I  am  the  one.  I  said  you  might  make 
your  talk  to  me.  I  will  back  my  man." 

Still  Hodge  was  confident  that  Ed  meant  himself.  Bart 
fancied  the  fellow  was  afraid  Hodge  would  take  alarm  if 
he  came  out  openly. 

"I'll  bet  fifty  dollars  there  is  not  a  man  in  this  town 
who  can  beat  Frank  Merriwell  at  a  game  of  billiards!" 
cried  Hodge. 

"If  you  will  permit  certain  restrictions,  I  think  I  will 
take  that  bet,"  came  quietly  from  Elegant  Ed. 

"Do  you  want  odds?"  laughed  Hodge,  derisively. 

"Hardly.  I  see  I  made  a  mistake  in  thinking  Mr.  Merri- 
well would  be  unable  to  hold  the  balls  together.  He  has  a 
way  of  packing  them  up  against  the  cushion  and  keeping 
them  there.  He  can  anchor  them  in  a  corner.  But  that 
is  the  old-fashioned  way  of  playing  billiards.  No  billiard 
player  plays  that  way  now." 

"What  are  you  driving  at?" 

"If  my  man  plays  Mr.  Merriwell,  it  must  be  a  balk-line 
game." 

"Is  that  it?" 

"Exactly." 

Bart  looked  at  Frank,  who  smiled,  reassuringly.  In- 
stantly Hodge  said: 

"What  sort  of  a  balk  line  ?  Merriwell  does  not  claim  to 
be  a  professional,  so  I  don't  suppose  you  will  call  for  a 
fourteen-inch  line  ?" 

"Oh,  no ;  an  eight-inch  line,  to  keep  him  from  hugging 
the  object  balls  to  the  rail  will  be  quite  satisfactory." 

Again  Bart  looked  at  Frank,  and  again  Frank  smiled. 


A  Wager.  85 

"That  is  satisfactory  to  me,"  said  Hodge.  "Now  bring 
out  your  man." 

"Don't  be  in  such  a  rush.  I  believe  you  offered  to  bet 
fifty  dollars  there  is  not  a  man  in  town  who  can  beat  Mr. 
Merriwell  ?" 

"Sure." 

"Now,  fifty  points  is  no  game.  With  the  luck  he  has, 
Mr.  Merriwell  might  make  that  in  a  single  run.  Let's  call 
the  game  two  hundred  points." 

"Agreed." 

"Now  we  will  put  up  our  money.  I  shall  be  satisfied  to 
put  it  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Rose,  a  gentleman  who  is  well 
known  in  this  town,  as  he  is  our  leading  druggist." 

It  happened  that  Hodge  and  Merriwell  had  been  in- 
troduced to  Mr.  Rose,  and  they  agreed  to  him  as  a  stake- 
holder, so  the  money  was  posted.  When  this  was  done, 
Hodge  said : 

"Now,  Mr.  Ed  Qair,  take  off  your  coat  and  get  into 
the  game.  You  will  have  to  hustle  if  you  win." 

"My  boy,  you  are  always  in  a  wonderful  hurry.  I  will 
bring  in  my  man  in  ten  or  fifteen  minutes.  Don't  permit 
yourself  to  become  too  impatient." 

Then  he  left  the  clubroom. 

A  little  more  than  ten  minutes  passed,  and  then  Claif 

aimed.  He  was  accompanied  by  a  well-dressed  person 
<ho  had  the  appearance  of  a  youth  of  eighteen  or  twenty, 
but  exclamations  of  surprise  came  from  everyone  when 
they  saw  the  latter. 

His  face  was  hidden  by  a  mask ! 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Elegant  Ed,  with  a  smiling  bow, 
"here  is  my  man." 

Silence  followed. 

The  masked  unknown  looked  round  the  room.  At  last 
his  eyes  rested  on  the  face  of  Frank  Merriwell,  and  they 
seemed  to  gleam  strangely  through  the  twin  holes  in  the 


86  A  Wager. 

black  mask.  Somehow  Frank  fancied  he  had  seen  those 
eyes  before. 

Hodge  was  astounded,  for  up  to  the  entrance  of  the 
two,  he  had  continued  to  believe  that  Elegant  Ed  meant 
to  play  with  Frank.  He  had  not  dreamed  the  dandy 
thought  of  ringing  in  another  person. 

"What  kind  of  a  game  is  this  ?"  grunted  Bruce  Brown- 
ing, at  last.  "I  smell  something  crooked." 

"So  do  I !"  shouted  Hodge,  leaping  to  his  feet.  "Who 
is  this  person  who  hides  his  face?" 

"For  the  present,  gentlemen,  he  shall  be  known  as  Un- 
known," said  Clair.  "That  will  be  sufficient." 

"Not  on  your  life!"  cried  Bart.  "I  did  not  bet  that 
Frank  could  win  against  a  professional." 

"You  became  so  excited  at  last  that  you  bet  he  could 
win  over  anybody  in  this  town.  If  I  saw  fit,  and  there  was 
a  professional  handy,  I  might  ring  him  in ;  but  I  have  no 
idea  of  doing  anything  of  the  sort.  This  man  here  is  an 
amateur;  I  give  you  my  word  on  that.  He  never  took 
part  in  a  match  for  money  in  all  his  life.  This  will  be  the 
first  time  money  ever  was  wagered  on  him.  Am  I  right, 
Unknown?" 

The  mask  bowed,  but  did  not  speak. 

"If  Mr.  Hodge  is  frightened "  began  Ed;  but  Bart 

cut  him  short. 

"All  I  ask  is  a  square  deal!" 

"You  are  getting  that." 

"Why  should  he  hide  his  face?" 

"It  is  not  necessary  to  give  his  reason  for  doing  so.  Per- 
haps it  is  for  the  purpose  of  concealing  his  emotions  dur- 
ing the  game.  It  may  be  that  he  has  a  talking  face  and  it 
gives  him  away." 

"That  hardly  goes  down." 

"All  right.    Jhink  what  you  like.    Here  is  my  man. 


A  Wager.  87 

You  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  his  face  after  the 
game  is  over.    That  should  be  sufficient  for  you." 

"In  case  he  beats  me,"  said  Frank,  "he  must  show  his 
face  before  the  money  is  paid  over.  If  he  is  a  professional, 
the  bet  is  off." 

To  this  Elegant  Ed  readily  agreed. 

;      Then  they  set  about  making  the  balk  lines,  which  took 
considerable  time,  but  was  arranged  at  last. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  the  masked  contestant,  al- 
though he  watched  the  preparations  with  interest.  He 
seemed  to  trust  everything  to  Clair,  excepting  the  selec- 
tion of  the  cue  that  he  would  use.  He  approached  the 
general  cue  rack  and  looked  the  cues  over,  whereupon  Ed 
unlocked  his  cue  from  the  private  rack  and  handed  it  to 
him,  saying : 

"Here  is  the  best  cue  in  the  room.  It's  eighteen-ounced, 
and  beautifully  balanced,  with  a  perfect  tip  that  holds 
chalk,  so  there  is  no  danger  of  a  miscue." 

The  mysterious  player  took  the  cue,  looked  it  over,  bal- 
anced it  with  one  hand,  and  then  with  both  hands,  ex- 
amined the  tip,  balancing  it  again,  then  passed  it  back  to 
Clair,  shaking  his  head. 

"What !"  cried  Ed.    "Don't  want  it?" 

Another  shake  of  the  head. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter  with  it?" 

The  mask  pointed  to  the  number  near  the  butt — 18. 

"That?    Why,  that  is  just  the  right  weight." 

Another  shake  of  the  head,  and  then  the  stranger  once 
more  began  looking  over  the  cues  in  the  general  cue  rack. 
He  took  them  out  one  after  another,  sighted  along  them  to 
see  if  they  were  straight,  balanced  them,  and  put  them 
back.  It  did  not  seem  that  he  would  find  a  cue  to  suit  him. 

At  last,  however,  he  came  to  a  twenty-one-ounce  cue 
that  was  in  pretty  good  condition.  He  examined  it  some 
time,  tried  the  tip  with  his  finger-nail,  then  found  some 


88  A  Wager. 

sand-paper  and  went  to  work  on  it.  He  spent  five  minutes 
on  that  tip,  and  it  was  as  near  perfect  as  it  could  be  when 
he  stopped. 

At  last  everything  was  ready.  The  masked  player  took 
off  his  coat.  He  wore  a  fancy  shirt  with  red  figures  in  it. 
Indeed,  his  dress  from  his  feet  up  was  "loud."  A  huge 
gold  chain  was  strung  across  his  vest,  and  diamonds  twin- 
kled from  two  rings  and  from  the  scarfpin  he  wore.  His 
natty  straw  hat  had  a  crimson-and-black  band  around  it. 

Frank  and  the  unknown  prepared  to  "string,"  which 
means  to  roll  the  balls  down  the  table  and  back,  the  one 
stopping  nearer  the  end  from  which  they  started  to  have 
the  first  shot. 

Gently  and  prettily  the  balls  went  down  the  table  to- 
gether, came  slowly  rolling  back  together.  Slower  and 
slower  they  rolled  till  they  came  up  softly  to  the  cushion 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  table  and — both  "froze"  to  the 
cushion ! 

Immediately  Frank  and  his  opponent  prepared  to 
"string"  again.  They  did  so,  and  once  more  the  balls 
"froze"  to  the  cushion ! 

Then  there  was  a  stir,  for  the  spectators  realized  that 
here  was  a  struggle  for  advantage  at  the  very  outset  before 
the  game  was  begun. 

A  third  time  they  rolled,  and  this  time  Frank's  ball 
struck  the  cushion  and  stopped  about  two  inches  away. 
His  opponent's  ivory  did  not  freeze,  but  it  was  not  an 
inch  from  the  cushion,  and  he  had  the  first  shot. 

Elegant  Ed  laughed  with  satisfaction,  but  that  laugh 
did  not  seem  to  ruffle  Frank — he  did  not  seem  to  hear  it. 

Frank  had  the  white,  while  the  mask  had  the  spot-white. 
Merry  spotted  his  ball,  and,  again  chalking  his  cue,  Clair's 
player  made  the  starting  shot. 

It  was  a  beauty.  He  struck  the  red  on  the  lower  spot  in 
such  a  manner  that  it  was  driven  against  the  corner  cush- 


A  Wager.  89 

ions  and  came  a  third  of  the  way  back  up  the  board,  where 
it  stopped.  The  cue  ball  took  but  one  cushion  at  the  lower 
end,  came  back  up  the  table,  striking  a  side  cushion  three- 
quarters  of  the  way  up,  whirling  off  with  the  gentle  Eng- 
lish, striking  the  cushion  at  the  upper  end,  and  coming 
down  behind  the  white  ball  so  the  latter  was  driven  down 
to  join  the  red,  making  a  "cluster"  shot  of  the  very  first 
one,  which  was  a  most  remarkable  feat,  although  thor- 
oughly practical. 

Frank,  who  had  taken  a  seat,  looked  on  with  languid  in- 
terest, but  Browning  repressed  a  whistle  of  surprise  with 
no  little  difficulty.  Hans  was  heard  to  mutter : 

"Shimminy  Gristmas !" 

Hodge  looked  on  with  something  like  a  sullen  expres- 
sion of  confidence  on  his  face.  He  believed  Frank  could 
win  with  ease,  and  it  would  take  considerable  to  shake  his 
faith. 

Elegant  Ed  smiled  as  a  murmur  of  applause  ran  around 
the  room. 

The  spectators  were  asking  themselves  who  the  masked 
player  could  be.  None  of  them  seemed  to  know  him,  a 
fact  which  Frank  Merriwell  noted. 

The  mask  went  on  with  his  play.  It  was  remarkable 
how  well  he  handled  the  balls,  keeping  first  one  and  then 
the  other  inside  the  balk  line,  with  its  opposite  outside.  He 
ran  them  down  the  table  astride  the  line,  played  with  them 
in  the  corner  so  they  still  kept  on  opposite  sides  to  the  line, 
drove  them  round  the  table,  and  gathered  them  again,  split 
them  the  length^  of  the  table,  and  drew  the  cue  ball  that 
distance  with  marvelous  ease,  making  the  shot  and  gather- 
ing them  again,  and  then  held  them  together  once  more 
to  continue  the  run. 

Frank  began  to  realize  that  the  stranger  was  a  won- 
der, for,  restricted  by  the  balk  line,  he  ran  off  thirty-nine, 


90  A  Wager. 

which  was  something  to  be  proud  of,  being  far  ahead  of 
the  average  of  some  professional  players. 

The  balls  were  left  in  a  fairly  easy  position  for  the  first 
shot,  but  Merry  saw  that  to  make  that  shot  the  easiest  way 
was  to  split  the  balls  and  leave  a  hard  one  for  the  next. 
After  a  moment,  he  resolved  to  attempt  to  gather  them, 
even  though  it  was  not  such  an  easy  way  to  get  the  shot. 
With  the  greatest  care  he  did  so — and  missed ! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  GAME  OF  BILLIARDS. 

Elegant  Ed  laughed. 

"Too  bad,"  he  said,  with  mock  sympathy.  "That  was  sc 
easy,  too!  You  will  have  to  do  better  than  this,  Mr. 
Merriwell,  or  my  Unknown  will  win  hands  down." 

"If  he  beats  me,  he  wins  the  money,  that  is  all,"  said 
Frank,  quite  unruffled.  "One  of  us  must  lose." 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you  take  it  so  coolly,"  observed  Clair ; 
"you  will  not  feel  so  bad  when  it's  all  over." 

Hans  could  not  keep  still,  and  he  cried : 

"You  vait  a  leedle  myself!  Maype  you  velt  britty  pad 
somedime  ven  id  vas  all  ofer,  ain'd  it !" 

Clair  gave  the  Dutch  boy  a  contemptuous  stare,  but 
said  nothing.  He  was  again  smoking  cigarettes. 

The  masked  player  resumed  his  work  at  the  table. 

He  was  cool  and  methodical,  and  he  continued  to  make 
points  with  ease,  running  up  to  a  total  of  fifty-three  before 
he  stopped. 

"There,"  cried  Elegant  Ed,  intensely  satisfied,  "that  is 
more  than  a  fourth  of  the  game.  It's  a  start  you'll  not  be 
able  to  overcome,  Mr.  Merriwell." 

"I  hope  you  are  not  right  about  that,"  said  Frank,  as  he 
chalked  up  and  got  ready  to  play. 

At  the  very  outset  Merry  had  a  difficult  shot.  He  was 
forced  to  go  round  the  table  twice  for  it,  but  he  did  so 
with  ease,  making  the  shot. 

"That's  a  starter,"  said  Hodge.    "Now  keep  it  up." 

But  the  balls  were  left  in  bad  positions,  and,  in  trying 
to  get  them  together,  Frank  lost  the  very  next  shot. 

Clair  did  not  laugh  this  time,  but  he  said : 


92  The  Game  of  Billiards. 

"That  settles  it !  When  Unknown  is  finished  next  time, 
you  will  not  be  able  to  catch  him  in  a  week.  You  might 
as  well  throw  up  the  sponge  now." 

It  was  Merriwell's  turn  to  laugh. 

"That  is  rather  amusing,"  he  said.  "Why,  you  will  find 
there  is  lots  of  time  in  this  game  for  your  man  to  be  beaten. 
I  have  had  hard  luck  to  start  out  with." 

"Of  course  you  are  not  rattled !" 

"Not  in  the  least,  sir." 

"It  looks  like  it." 

"Don't  talk  to  him,  Frank !"  cried  Bart.  "He  is  trying 
to  rattle  you  now !  That  is  a  fine  way  to  win !  It's  a 
boy's  trick !" 

"You  are  touchy,  my  friend,"  purred  Ed. 

"Don't  call  me  your  friend  1"  snapped  Bart.  "I  am  not 
your  friend !" 

Hodge's  show  of  temper  was  prejudicing  the  spectators 
against  him.  Already  they  were  filled  with  admiration 
for  the  masked  player,  and  now  they  were  hoping  he 
would  win,  with  the  exception  of  Merriwell's  personal 
friends. 

Frank  saw  that  Bart  had  turned  sympathy  against  him- 
self, and  he  gave  Hodge  a  warning  look. 

"I  shouldn't  think  you  would  have  many  friends,"  said 
Clair,  in  a  soft,  contemptuous  way. 

Hodge  was  silent. 

The  wearer  of  the  mask  played  again,  but  he  ran  only 
nine,  making  sixty-two  points  in  all. 

"That  is  a  lead  of  sixty-one,"  said  Clair.  "It's  enough 
to  win  two  such  games  as  this." 

But  Frank  settled  down  to  business  and  Began  to  make 
a  run.  He  showed  his  skill  in  keeping  the  object  balls 
together,  and  the  points  piled  up  steadily  and  swiftly. 

Ten  were  made,  then  twenty,  then  thirty,  and  still  he 
held  the  object  balls  together  and  worked  them  from  oppo- 


The  Game  of  Billiards.  93 

site  sides  of  the  balk  line.  The  interest  deepened.  Forty 
points  were  made,  and,  after  chalking  up,  Frank  started 
out  in  a  fair  way  to  reach  fifty. 

Now  Hodge  had  his  turn  at  laughing.  There  was  not 
much  music  in  that  laugh;  it  was  harsh  and  full  of 
triumph. 

"The  aspect  of  affairs  seems  to  be  changing  somewhat," 
he  said.  "The  lead  of  your  Unknown  is  going  to  pieces 
as  fast  as  possible.  It  will  be  nothing  in  a  few  minutes." 
"Don't  get  gay  so  quick,"  said  Clair,  scornfully.  "Mr. 
Merriwell  has  not  overtaken  Rol — er — Unknown.  My 
man  has  lots  of  leeway." 

"He  won't  have  in  a  short  time." 

"I  am  glad  to  see  Mr.  Merriwell  bracing  up.    Unknown 
will  do  better.     He  never  plays  his  game  till  he  is  pressed." 
"He'll  have  an  opportunity  to  show  what  he  can  do  when 
he  plays  his  game." 

"Dot  vos  righd!"  cried  Hans.  "Vrankie  don'd  peert 
liable  to  nefer  stob.  Yaw !" 

Among  the  spectators  Frank  had  observed  Rupert  Rey- 
nolds, who  had  entered  shortly  after  the  game  began, 
but  was  keeping  back  amid  the  spectators.  Win  Harding 
was  also  there. 

With  Reynolds  had  entered  another  youth  nearly  Ru- 
pert's age,  a  fellow  with  a  foxy  face  and  eyes  set  near 
together.  He  wore  a  plaid  suit  and  carried  a  cane  with 
a  gold  handle,  while  his  soft  hat  was  set  rakishly  over 
his  ear. 

At  the  very  first  glance  Frank  fancied 'he  had  seen  that 
fellow  before,  but  he  was  too  busy  to  give  him  attention 
just  then.  Still,  he  could  not  forget  that  foxy  face. 
Where  had  he  seen  it? 

Just  as  Frank  was  attempting  the  forty-ninth  shot  fie 
remembered  where  and  when  he  had  seen  the  face  of  the 


94  The  Game  of  Billiards. 

fellow  with  Reynolds,  and  he  started,  uttering  an  excla- 
mation. 

He  missed  the  shot. 

"That  whittles  down  the  lead  of  your  man,"  said  Hodge, 
speaking  to  Clair. 

"That  will  prove  a  stimulant  for  him,  that's  all,"  de- 
clared Ed. 

But  Frank  was  looking  round  for  the  person  of  whom 
he  was  thinking.  He  saw  him  in  a  corner  with  Reynolds, 
the  two  talking  in  low  tones  and  watching  the  game. 

"It  is  that  fellow !"  thought  Frank.  "I  saw  him  last  in 
foreign  lands,  but  we  were  cadets  here,  and  he  has  come 
back.  Another  of  my  old  foes  is  on  hand." 

Then  he  went  over  to  Bart  and  softly  said: 

"Wat  Snell  is  here." 

"What?"  cried  Hodge,  astonished. 

Frank's  hand  was  pressed  over  the  mouth  of  the 
astounded  Bart. 

"He  is  here  in  the  room  with  Reynolds,"  said  Merry, 
quietly.  "Don't  let  them  see  you  looking  round  for 
them." 

"That  cur!"  grated  Bart.  "Of  all  the  fellows  in  the 
academy,  I  disliked  him  the  most.  He  always  was  a 
sneak." 

"Reynolds  and  Harding  are  keeping  pretty  still  since  I 
dropped  on  Cadet  Somers  for  the  attempt  to  flog  Hans 
with  a  whip.  They  haven't  made  a  move  since  that  time." 

"For  that  very  reason  it  is  best  to  look  out  for  them. 
When  they  do  make  a  move,  something  may  fall.  They 
will  lay  their  plans  well  the  next  time,  and  Hans  will  not 
be  taken  by  mistake  for  you  and  kidnaped." 

"Snell  will  not  be  much  aid  to  them.  He  is  too  much 
of  a  sneak  to  be  dangerous." 

"Being  so  much  a  sneak,  he  is  all  the  more  dangerous, 
for  he  will  do  their  dirty  work." 


The  Game  of  Billiards.  95 

"It's  strange  the  fellow  should  be  here  now." 

"Well,  I  have  an  unsettled  score  with  him,  and  I  may 
get  an  opportunity  to  square  accounts."  said  Hodge. 

While  Frank  and  Bart  were  talking,  Elegant  Ed's 
Unknown  was  playing,  and  he  was  running  off  the  points 
with  a  certainty  that  was  little  short  of  marvelous.  He 
did  not  make  a  big  run,  however,  for  he  stopped  at  eighty- 
four. 

Frank  followed  him,  and  made  twenty  points. 

The  Unknown  carried  his  score  up  to  one  hundred  and 
three,  while  Frank  stopped  at  seventy-five. 

"He  is  gaining  on  you  again,"  smiled  Elegant  Ed,  speak- 
ing to  Merry.  "You  do  not  seem  to  be  in  his  class." 

"Appearances  are  often  deceptive,  you  know,"  retorted 
Frank,  placidly. 

Then  it  was  his  turn  to  smile,  for  the  mask  missed  the 
next  shot  entirely,  but  Frank  repressed  all  signs  of  satis- 
faction and  ran  fourteen  points,  stopping  fourteen  points 
behind  his  opponent. 

"You  hang  on  as  if  you  had  a  show  at  the  game,"  said 
Clair. 

"Oh,  I  shall  hang  on  till  it's  all  over,"  said  Merry,  sit- 
ting down. 

The  Unknown  made  thirty-three  easily,  and  then  missed 
an  easy  point,  leaving  the  balls  bunched. 

"That  is  just  the  kind  of  a  leave  I  have  been  waiting 
for,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "It  is  beautiful!" 

"Make  a  hundred  this  time,  old  man!"  urged  Hodge. 
"You  can  do  it !" 

"A  hundred !"  cried  Clair,  derisively.  "If  he  makes  ten 
he  will  do  a  good  job  1" 

Frank  started  in  with  the  determination  of  making  a 
long  run,  but  slipped  on  his  eighth  shot,  to  the  supreme 


96  The  Game  of  Billiards. 

satisfaction  of  Elegant  Ed,  who  advised  his  man  to  run 
the  game  out  right  there. 

It  seemed  that  the  masked  player  meant  to  do  so.  He 
ran  point  after  point,  making  the  most  brilliant  shots  with 
ease  and  grace.  He  toyed  with  the  balls,  he  held  them 
together,  he  sent  them  flying  around  the  table,  he  made 
beautiful  follows  and  beautiful  draws,  he  made  several 
fine  masse  shots,  and  when  the  smoke  had  cleared  away 
and  he  had  finished,  the  score  was  found  to  stand  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy-seven  to  ninety-seven. 

"It's  all  over  now,"  said  Ed  Clair.  "What's  the  use  to 
try  any  longer.  My  man  will  run  it  out  next  time." 

"Still  I  think  I'll  try,"  said  Frank,  quietly,  still  smiling. 
"No  man  knows  what  may  happen." 

"Any  man  here  knows  what  won't  happen.  You  won't 
catch  Unknown." 

"It  is  barely  possible  I  may  not." 

"Barely  possible !     Well,  I  like  that !" 

Bart  was  silent,  and  his  face  showed  disappointment,  for 
all  that  he  tried  to  conceal  it.  He  had  hoped  Frank  would 
do  better,  and  he  felt  that  it  was  too  late  to  recover  lost 
ground.  The  masked  player  had  the  winning  lead. 

"But  I'll  see  his  face  before  he  gets  one  cent  of  that 
money !"  thought  Hodge.  "I'll  know  if  Clair  has  rung  in 
a  professional  on  us." 

Frank  resumed  playing  as  calmly  as  if  it  was  at  the 
outset  of  the  game.  It  was  plain  that  he  was  not  in  the 
least  disturbed  by  the  position  in  which  he  found  himself. 
If  his  opponent  won,  he  would  still  remain  cool  and  un- 
ruffled. He  did  not  feel  at  all  desperate,  but  he  was  deter- 
mined to  play  his  very  best.  He  also  was  determined  to 
see  the  face  of  his  opponent  before  the  money  was  paid 
over. 

At  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  Frank  missed. 


The  Game  of  Billiards.  97 

"That  ends  it  1"  cried  Elegant  Ed. 

But  it  didn't.    The  Unknown  ran  eleven  and  stopped. 

"Now,  Merriwell!"  grunted  Bruce  Browning.  "Catch 
him!  Do  your  best!  It's  your  last  chance." 

Frank  did  not  seem  at  all  rattled,  but  he  made  just  two 
points,  and  then  he  missed  what  should  have  been  easy. 

If  Merriwell  was  disgusted  with  himself  he  did  not  show 
it  when  he  sat  down.  He  laughed  over  it  as  if  it  were  a 
good  joke.  He  felt  that  the  game  was  lost,  but  it  was 
useless  to  feel  bad  about  it. 

Glair's  man  needed  exactly  twelve  points,  and  that  was 
an  easy  run. 

The  spectators  applauded  him  as  he  prepared  to  shoot. 
Frank  saw  that  the  most  of  the  men  in  the  room  wished  the 
mask  to  win,  and  he  knew  this  state  of  affairs  had  been 
brought  about  by  Hodge's  show  of  temper. 

The  Unknown  played  with  ease  and  confidence.  It  was 
plain  he  felt  that  he  had  the  game  in  his  fingers,  and  he 
was  not  at  all  worried.  He  made  his  shots  gracefully. 

Already  Elegant  Ed  was  telling  that  he  knew  all  along 
that  he  had  a  snap.  Everybody  seemed  to  feel  that  "the 
agony  was  over." 

The  Unknown  had  but  three  more  shots  to  make.  He 
did  a  fancy  shot,  calling  a  kiss,  and  made  it. 

The  witnesses  applauded,  Merriwell  joining  in  the  ap- 
plause. 

From  beneath  the  mask  came  the  sound  of  a  quiet  laugh. 
The  player  seemed  to  feel  that  he  had  everything  in  his 
hands. 

Another  difficult  shot  was  called  and  made. 

The  balls  were  left  where  there  was  an  easy  shot,  but 
the  player  preferred  to  take  a  more  difficult  chance  and 
give  an  exhibition  of  his  skill.  He  took  it  and 

Missed ! 


98  The  Game  of  Billiards. 

Bart  Hodge  came  near  uttering  a  shout  of  satisfaction, 
but  choked  back  the  outburst. 

"It's  all  right,  old  man,"  said  Elegant  Ed,  laughing. 
"Merriwell  has  seventy-four  to  make,  and  he  can't  do 
•  that  in  five  chances.  .You  will  go  out  next  time  sure." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WHO    WON. 

Of  a  sudden,  deep  down  within  him,  a  feeling  of  con- 
fidence seized  Frank  Merriwell.  He  started  playing,  feel- 
ing that  he  would  not  stop  till  he  had  run  the  game  out. 
He  did  not  force  this  feeling  on  himself,  but  it  seemed  to 
take  possession  of  him  without  any  desire  of  his  own.  His 
judgment  was  perfect.  Difficult  shots  came  swift  and 
thick,  but  he  made  them  all  with  such  ease  that  everyone 
but  himself  was  astonished.  He  was  not  astonished  him- 
self, for  he  felt  that  he  could  not  miss. 

After  a  while,  Elegant  Ed  ceased  to  laugh  and  talk  and 
began  to  watch  Frank,  who  was  up  to  one  hundred  and 
sixty. 

"A  scratch !"  he  sneered,  as  Frank  made  a  particularly 
difficult  bounce  shot,  having  played  directly  on  a  ball  that 
was  frozen  to  the  cushion. 

It  was  not  a  scratch,  but  Merry  did  not  take  the  trouble 
to  say  so.  He  was  playing  for  that  game,  and  he  would 
not  pause  to  banter  words  with  Clair. 

"Mr.  Merriwell  would  not  make  so  many  if  he  were 
forced  to  call  his  shots,"  said  Ed,  insinuatingly. 

Thereupon  Frank  began  immediately  to  call  his  shots 
and  make  them  with  the  same  confident  ease. 

Seeing  this,  Ed  resorted  to  the  plan  of  sneering  at  the 
shots  as  they  were  called  off. 

"Nobody  but  a  Verdant  Green  would  think  of  playing 
that  shot  in  such  a  manner,"  he  said  more  than  once.  "It 
is  ridiculous — perfectly  foolish!" 

But  Frank  played  it  as  he  called  it  each  time  and 
made  it. 


ioo  Who  Won. 

Now,  it  happened  that  Clair  was  beginning  to  lose  the 
sympathy  of  the  spectators,  who  could  not  fail  to  see  that 
he  was  trying  to  rattle  Frank.  Merriwell  was  winning 
their  admiration  by  the  manner  in  which  he  was  playing 
in  the  face  of  almost  positive  defeat. 

"It's  the  Yale  spirit !"  thought  Hodge,  exultantly.  "It's 
Old  Eli's  last-ditch  style  of  playing — and  it  will  win 
out,  too!" 

Bart's  confidence  grew  with  each  shot. 

As  Frank  crept  up  toward  one  hundred  and  eighty  the 
masked  Unknown  began  to  get  restless.  When  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty  was  passed  and  Frank  kept  right  on,  the 
fellow  grew  very  nervous.  He  clutched  his  cue  and  glared 
at  Merry  through  the  twin  holes  in  his  black  mask. 

One  hundred  and  ninety  was  reached,  and  the  excite- 
ment in  that  room  was  intense. 

After  chalking  carefully,  Frank  started  on  the  last  ten. 
He  took  no  foolish  chances,  but  played  just  as  his  best 
judgment  directed. 

Reynolds  and  Snell  were  watching  the  game  with  great 
interest,  both  looking  disgusted  over  Frank's  success  in 
the  face  of  what  had  seemed  a  certain  defeat. 

Bart  Hodge,  without  being  aware  of  it,  was  actually 
praying.  He  was  choked  with  hope  and  overcome  by 
terror.  Not  that  he  cared  so  much  for  the  fifty  dollars, 
for  he  would  have  given  all  the  money  at  stake  could  he 
have  made  certain  Frank  would  win. 

Nearer  and  nearer  toward  the  two  hundred  mark  crept 
Merriwell.  Elegant  Ed  had  ceased  to  banter,  seeing  it 
made  no  difference  with  the  playing  of  the  Yale  lad.  He 
stood  with  folded  arms,  pretending  to  smile  sneeringly  as 
he  looked  on.  Now  and  then  he  gnawed  at  his  short 
mustache  with  his  white  teeth. 

At  last  Frank  had  but  one  point  to  go;  he  had  tied  his 
opponent  And,  strangely  enough,  the  balls  sat  almost 


Who  Won.  101 

exactly  as  they  had  when  the  mask  reached  that  stage  of 
the  game. 

Frank  considered.  One  way  he  could  make  the  shot 
easily,  but  his  opponent  had  not  deigned  to  take  it  that  way. 
If  he  were  to  make  the  shot  by  attempting  to  do  it  as  the 
Unknown  had  done,  it  would  be  a  double  victory.  After 
carefully  looking  it  over,  he  chalked  up  and  tried  the  shot 
just  as  the  masked  player  had  attempted  it. 

There  was  a  gasp  of  surprise,  and  then  stillness. 

Round  the  table  flew  the  balls,  and  they  came  together 
at  last.  The  shot  was  made — the  game  was  won! 

For  some  moments  there  was  silence  in  that  room,  and 
then  came  such  a  burst  of  applause  from  the  admiring 
spectators  as  had  not  been  heard  previous  to  that  moment. 

Frank  had  won  the  game  when  it  seemed  lost  beyond 
winning,  and  he  was  the  hero  of  the  moment. 

Hans  gave  a  whoop  of  delight,  flinging  his  cap  up  to 
the  ceiling  and  shouting: 

"Didn't  you  toldt  me  so !  Oh,  dot  poy  vos  a  corker,  und 
don'd  you  forgot  dot !  He  peats  der  vorld !" 

Bart  hastened  to  congratulate  Frank  and  shake  hi» 
hand. 

Elegant  Ed  looked  disgusted. 

It  happened  that  at  that  moment  no  one  was  watching 
the  defeated  player.  What  emotions  were  depicted  by  the 
face  behind  the  mask  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  he  clutched 
his  heavy  cue  as  if  longing  to  break  it,  and  trembled  all 
over. 

All  at  once,  with  a  smothered  curse,  the  Unknown  raised 
that  cue  and  brought  the  butt  of  it  down  upon  the  head 
of  the  victor,  stretching  Frank  upon  the  floor. 

Then,  before  a  hand  could  check  him,  he  leaped  toward 
the  open  door  of  the  room. 

In  the  doorway  appeared  a  tall,  awkward-looking  youth, 
who  seemed  to  be  looking  for  some  person. 


102  Who  Won. 

It  was  Ephraim  Gallup,  already  mentioned  as  another  of 
Frank  Merriwell's  Fardale  friends ! 

Hodge  saw  Gallup,  recognized  him,  and  shouted : 

"Stop  that  fellow,  Ephraim  1" 

"I'll  do  it,  b'gosh !"  said  the  boy  from  Vermont,  as  he 
reached  out  his  long  arms  to  clasp  the  Unknown. 

Like  a  cat  the  wearer  of  the  mask  darted  under  Eph- 
raim's  arm,  giving  Gallup  a  dig  in  the  ribs  that  rounded 
him  up  for  a  moment. 

"After  him  !"  screamed  Hodge,  flinging  the  country  boy 
aside  and  springing  through  the  door. 

There  was  a  rush  in  pursuit,  while  Bruce  was  left  bend- 
ing over  Frank,  who  was  stretched  on  the  floor. 

Bart  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs  in  time  to  see  tke 
Unknown  go  bounding  down,  taking  the  whole  flight  at 
three  springs. 

Hodge  followed  in  a  fashion  no  less  reckless. 

"You  shan't  get  away !"  he  grated. 

Bart  felt  a  fierce  desire  to  capture  the  fellow  and  choke 
him  to  death.  He  was  thoroughly  infuriated  by  the 
cowardly  manner  in  which  Merry  had  been  struck  down. 

There  was  a  door  at  the  foot  of  the  flight  of  stairs.  The 
fugitive  flung  it  open,  slammed  it  shut.  It  closed  in 
Bart's  face,  but  Hodge  did  not  reach  for  the  knob.  In- 
stead of  that,  he  flung  himself  against  that  door  and  burst 
it  open  in  a  moment. 

A  second  later  he  was  out  on  the  street.  He  was  in 
time  to  see  the  wearer  of  the  mask  slash  with  a  knife  at 
the  strap  which  hitched  a  saddled  and  bridled  horse  to 
the  stone  post  in  front  of  the  building.  That  slash  severed 
the  strap.  The  horse  snorted  and  reared,  but  the  desperate 
fugitive  made  one  wild  leap  that  carried  him  into  the 
saddle. 

At  that  moment  Hodge  was  so  close  that  he  tried  to 
catch  the  fellow's  leg  to  tear  him  from  the  horse.  The 


Who  Won.  103 

animal  leaped  away  with  a  snort  of  terror,  however,  and 
Bart  missed  his  clutch. 

As  the  horse  made  that  leap,  the  fugitive  turned  in  the 
saddle,  snarling: 

"Take  that  1" 

He  flung  the  open  knife  straight  at  Hodge. 

Bart  had  no  time  to  dodge,  and  the  knife  struck  him  in 
the  center  of  the  breast.  Backward  he  staggered,  with  a 
cry,  but  did  not  fall. 

Fortunately  the  knife  struck  him  handle  first,  and  it  fell 
with  a  ringing  sound  to  the  sidewalk. 

Outside  the  club  there  had  been  several  startled  wit- 
nesses of  this  scene,  one  of  them  being  a  tall  man  who 
wore  a  badge  conspicuously  on  the  breast  of  his  coat. 
This  man  sprang  forward,  shouting  to  the  escaping  assail- 
ant of  Frank  Merriwell : 

"Hey,  hang  you !  That's  my  hoss !  What  be  you 
doin'  ?" 

But  the  fugitive  gave  no  heed,  tearing  along  the  street 
of  the  town  at  a  speed  that  astonished  all  who  saw  him, 
As  he  wore  a  mask  over  his  face  and  was  riding  so  swiftly, 
the  citizens  took  him  for  a  daring  footpad,  and  they  were 
filled  with  consternation. 

Out  of  the  club  poured  excited  men  and  youths,  and 
there  was  a  scene  of  confusion  in  front  of  the  building. 

Hodge  recovered  in  a  moment  and  whirled  toward  the 
man  who  had  claimed  the  horse.  One  glance  showed  Bart 
that  the  man  was  the  deputy  sheriff  of  the  town.  In  a 
moment  Hodge  had  the  officer  by  the  arm. 

"After  that  fellow!"  he  snarled.  "Capture  him  some 
way !  He  has  killed  Frank  Merriwell !" 

"Who  is  Frank  Merriwell  ?"  blankly  asked  the  sheriff. 

"Don't  stop  to  ask  questions !  He  has  killed  somebody, 
and  he  is  escaping  on  your  horse !  Hunt  him  down !  Take 
him  dead  or  alive !  Don't  lose  a  moment  I" 


104  Who  Won. 

Others  gathered  round  and  added  to  the  confusion  of 
the  moment  with  the  babel  of  their  voices.  It  was  such  a 
moment  of  excitement  as  Fardale  had  not  witnessed  for 
a  long  time. 

"Fools !"  raved  Hodge.  "You  are  wasting  time,  and  he 
is  escaping !  Follow  him !  Hunt  him  down !  I'll  be  with 
you  directly!" 

"Come  on!"  roared  the  sheriff.  "Let  everybody  that 
can,  git  hosses  and  join  in  the  hunt!  We'll  have  him  in 
short  order." 

"Not  if  he  sticks  to  that  hoss  of  your'n,"  said  another 
man.  "That  hoss  is  a  wonder,  and  it's  goin'  to  take  a  good 
critter  to  catch  him." 

But  there  was  a  general  rush  for  means  of  pursuit.  Two 
men  sprang  into  the  carriage  and  dashed  away  after  the 
fugitive,  hoping  to  keep  track  of  him  till  others  on 
horseback  could  take  up  the  hunt.  In  a  short  time 
twenty  men  were  pursuing  the  fleeing  Unknown. 

Bart  would  have  found  some  means  of  pursuit,  but  he 
thought  it  possible  Frank  was  not  dead,  and  he  wished  to 
be  at  the  side  of  his  friend  when  Merry  breathed  his 
last. 

Hodge  did  not  think  it  possible  Frank  had  escaped  with 
anything  less  than  a  broken  skull,  for  he  remembered  how 
the  Unknown  had  selected  the  heaviest  cue  he  could  find. 
A  blow  on  the  head  with  the  butt  of  such  a  weapon  meant 
sure  death,  so  Bart  imagined. 

Up  the  stairs  he  bounded  and  dashed  into  the  billiard 
room.  Then  he  halted,  uttering  a  gasp  of  amazement. 

Frank  was  seated  on  a  chair,  to  which  he  had  been 
lifted  by  Browning.  His  face  was  pale  and  there  was 
blood  on  his  cheek.  Bruce  and  Ephraim  were  trying  to 
stanch  the  flow  of  blood  with  a  handkerchief,  while  Hans 
looked  on  in  helpless  agony,  wringing  his  hands.. 

This  was  not  what  Hodge  had  expected  to  see.    Hope 


Who  Won.  105 

flew  into  his  heart  like  a  joyous  bird.  With  a  shout  of 
delight,  he  rushed  forward. 

"Merry!"  he  cried,  "are  you  badly  hurt?" 

Frank  smiled  faintly. 

"Oh,  I  saw  a  few  stars,"  he  said;  "but  I'm  still  in  the 
ring." 

"Your  head — I  thought  you  were  killed !" 

"Suppose  I  should  have  been  had  the  fellow  struck  me 
fairly,  but  it  was  a  glancing  blow,  and " 

"Go  for  a  doctor,  Bart,"  said  Browning. 

At  that  moment,  having  heard  what  had  happened,  a 
doctor  came  hurriedly  into  the  room.  He  was  followed  by 
a  crowd  of  curious  ones  who  wished  to  see  the  injured 
lad,  but  the  door  was  closed,  and  all  who  were  not  club 
members  were  excluded. 

The  doctor  made  an  examination  of  Frank's  wound, 
and  Merry's  friends  listened  anxiously  for  the  verdict. 

"Well,"  said  the  physician,  smiling  cheerfully,  "you 
will  have  a  sore  head  for  a  few  days,  but  you  will  come 
out  all  right,  young  man." 

"Hurrah !"  shouted  Hodge. 

Others  took  up  the  cheer,  and  the  people  who  had  gath- 
ered out  on  the  street  soon  knew  that  Merry  had  not  been 
injured  seriously. 

"Now,"  said  Bart,  "as  you  are  all  right,  Merry,  I  ana 
going  to  leave  you." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Help  hunt  that  fellow  down.  The  sheriff  and  twenty 
men  are  after  him.  We'll  catch  him  and  bring  him  back. 
He  shall  pay  the  penalty  for  his  dastardly  attempt." 

Then  Hodge  rushed  from  the  room. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

STILL    ANOTHER    FOE. 

The  doctor  fixed  up  the  wound  in  Frank's  scalp,  cutting 
away  some  of  the  hair  about  it  in  order  to  get  at  it.  Frank 
chatted  with  his  friends  and  did  not  wince  once  as  several 
stitches  were  taken  in  the  gash. 

"You  seem  to  have  plenty  of  nerve,  young  man,"  said 
the  physician,  with  open  admiration. 

"Dot  peen  vot  made  him  vin  dot  game  uf  peelyards," 
grinned  Hans,  who  was  standing  with  his  hands  thrust 
deep  into  his  pockets  and  his  round  eyes  fastened  on 
Merry's  face.  "Dot  poy  peen  a  vender,  toctor.  Yaw!" 

"Who  was  this  rascal  that  struck  you,  sir?"  asked  the 
doctor. 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Don't  know?" 

"No,  sir." 

"And  you  played  a  game  of  billiards  with  him  ?" 

"Yes,  but  he  was  masked,  and  I  did  not  see  his  face 
at  all." 

Then  Frank  explained  about  Bart's  bet  with  Elegant 
Ed,  and  what  followed.  The  doctor  listened  with  great 
interest. 

"This  is  very  interesting,  and  most  remarkable!"  he 
exclaimed.  "It  sounds  almost  too  much  like  a  story  to  be 
really  true.  I  knew  nothing  about  it  before.  Was  sitting 
in  my  office  when  a  fellow  ran  in  and  told  me  to  come 
here  at  once,  as  somebody  had  his  head  split  open.  I 
caught  up  this  case  and  came  in  a  hurry. 

"I  play  a  little  myself,  and  I  sometimes  play  with  Ed 


Still  Another  Foe.  107 

Clair.  Of  course  he  gives  me  odds.  But  I  know  every 
billiard  player  in  this  town,  and  I  do  not  know  one  that 
answers  the  description  you  have  given  of  this  Unknown. 
I  do  not  believe  that  fellow  belongs  in  Fardale." 

"No  one  seemed  to  know  him,"  said  Frank. 

"Then  he  must  be  some  fellow  Clair  picked  up  on  his 
last  trip  away  from  home.  He's  just  back.  Of  course 
Clair  knows  him.  Where  is  Ed?" 

"Here." 

Into  the  room  coolly  sauntered  Elegant  Ed,  a  cigarette 
held  in  his  lips. 

"Were  you  wishing  to  see  me,  doc  ?"  asked  the  dandy  of 
the  town,  in  a  most  familiar  way. 

The  doctor  frowned  a  bit  and  flushed,  but  said : 

'  'Yes.  We  were  speaking  of  your  friend,  the  Unknown. 
It  seems  that  the  fellow  committed  a  most  dastardly  as- 
sault on  this  young  gentleman." 

"For  which  I  am  very  sorry,"  declared  Ed,  with  a  low 
bow,  "and  I  ask  Mr.  Merriwell's  pardon  for  my  connection 
with  the  affair.  I  give  him  my  assurance  that  I  did  not 
dream  it  would  have  such  a  termination.  Really,  I  do  not 
understand  the  meaning  of  it  now,  for  I  was  the  one  who 
lost  money  on  the  game,  and  it  was  I  who  should  have 
been  angry.  Why  my  man  should  do  such  a  thing  is  more 
than  I  can  understand.  I  was  so  astounded  by  his  act 
that  I  found  myself  unable  to  act  for  some  time.  As  soon 
as  I  could,  I  ran  out  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  I  have  done  my 
best  to  aid  in  his  capture  by  putting  my  own  horse  at 
the  service  of  Hawkings,  the  sheriff.  Again  I  assure  Mr. 
Merriwell  of  my  sincere  regret,  and  trust  he  will  hold  me 
blameless." 

All  this  was  said  very  smoothly  and  suavely,  but  Frank, 
who  was  watching  the  fellow  closely,  fancied  that  Ed  was 


io8  Still  Another  Foe. 

not  sincere.    However,  Merry  would  not  be  a  cad,  and  he 
returned : 

"If  you  are  blameless  in  this  affair,  I  shall  not  think  of 
holding  you  to  account  in  any  way." 

"Thank  you,"  bowed  Ed,  and  it  seemed  that  there  was  a 
touch  of  mockery  in  his  manner. 

"But  you  know  the  fellow  who  struck  me." 

"Certainly." 

"Tell  me  his  name,  that  I  may  know  him  when  next 
we  meet.  I  have  a  serious  account  to  settle  with  him." 

Ed  hesitated,  and  then  answered: 

"His  name  is — Charles  Garland." 

"Charles  Garland,"  repeated  Frank.  "1  he  name  is  one 
I  never  heard  before.  It  is  remarkable  that  Charles  Gar- 
land should  wish  to  hide  his  face  from  me,  and  should 
strike  me  down  with  a  cue  after  I  had  beaten  him." 

"Yaw,"  gurgled  Hans,  "dot  peen  very  beculiar." 

Browning  grunted  in  an  expressive  mannar,  but  did 
not  utter  a  word. 

"I  can't  understand  it,"  declared  Frank.  "Can  you  ex- 
plain it,  sir  ?  Why  did  Charles  Garland  wear  a  mask  when 
he  came  here  to  play  a  game  of  billiards  with  me?" 

"You  have  asked  me  a  question  I  am  unable  to  answer," 
said  Ed. 

"It  is  strange  you  can't  answer  it.  He  was  your  man. 
You  brought  him  here ;  you  backed  him." 

"True." 
I     "How  did  you  happen  to  do  that?" 

"Because  I  had  played  billiards  with  him." 

"You  had  played  with  him,  and  so  you  put  him " 

"Against  you — that  is  it.  He  beat  me.  I  believed  him 
a  better  player  than  myself.  For  that  reason  I  bet  oo 
him,  brought  him  here,  and  had  him  play  with  you." 

"That  does  not  explain  why  he  wore  a  mask," 


Still  Another  Foe.  109 

"I  know  it." 

"Explain  that." 

"I  cannot." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  I  do  not  know  his  reason  for  wearing  the 
mask.  I  found  him  in  his  room  at  the  hotel,  and  told 
him  what  I  wanted  him  to  do.  He  asked  the  name  of  the 
person  he  was  to  play  against,  and  I  told  him  that.  Im- 
mediately he  brought  out  the  mask,  and  said  he  would 
wear  it  during  the  game.  When  I  asked  him  why  he 
should  do  that,  he  laughed  and  said  it  was  for  a  sensa- 
tion. He  said  he  would  beat  you  easily,  and  you  would 
think  him  a  professional  who  wished  to  hide  his  face. 
Then,  when  you  demanded  to  see  his  face  after  the  game, 
he  would  take  off  the  mask  and  laugh  at  you." 

"Dot  peen  der  dime  dot  poy  got  himseluf  left,"  chuckled 
Hans.  "He  had  to  laugh  der  odder  side  uf  mein  mouth 
oudt  uf.  Yaw !" 

Elegant  Ed  had  made  his  explanation,  and  Frank  was 
forced  to  accept  it.  Again  Ed  protested  that  he  could 
not  understand  why  his  man  had  lost  his  head  and  struck 
Frank  down  in  such  a  brutal  manner.  Again  he  professed 
sorrow  and  regret  because  of  the  hasty  act  of  the  angry 
Unknown.  Again  Frank  observed  something  like  mock- 
ery in  his  manner. 

The  wound  on  Frank's  head  was  dressed,  and  a  band- 
age was  tied  about  his  head.  Then  the  doctor  told  him 
that  he  must  not  think  of  returning  to  the  camp  at  the 
academy  and  remaining  in  a  tent  for  several  nights.  He 
must  get  a  room  at  the  hotel  and  take  care  of  himself,  so  he 
would  not  get  cold  in  the  wound. 

Frank  did  not  fancy  stopping  at  the  hotel.  He  had  not 
come  to  Fardale  to  stop  in  a  hotel.  But  he  was  obliged  to 
listen  to  the  doctor,  and  so,  when  he  left  the  club,  he  went 


no  Still  Another  Foe. 

down  the  street  to  the  hotel,  accompanied  by  Hans  and 
Bruce,  and  followed  by  a  motley  throng  of  villagers. 

Frank  entered  the  office  and  walked  up  to  the  desk.  The 
clerk  was  there. 

"Is  there  a  person  by  the  name  of  Charles  Garland  stop- 
ping in  this  hotel?"  asked  Merry. 

"No,  sir,  there  is  not,"  answered  the  clerk. 

"Has  such  a  person  been  stopping  here?" 

"No,  sir." 

Then  Frank  registered  and  was  given  a  room,  after 
making  arrangements  to  stop  there  till  such  a  time  as  the 
doctor  should  permit  him  to  return  to  tent  life. 

Bruce  and  Hans  accompanied  Merry  to  his  room,  which 
happened  to  be  large  and  comfortable,  in  the  front  of  the 
house. 

"There !"  exclaimed  Merry,  as  he  dropped  into  an  easy- 
chair  ;  "I  am  glad  to  sit  down,  for  I  feel  awfully  weak,  and 
my  head  is  throbbing  with  a  frightful  pain." 

His  face  was  white  and  drawn.  Bruce  was  startled  by 
the  change  that  had  come  over  him  so  suddenly. 

"Why,  you  were  smiling  a  short  time  ago!"  he  cried. 
"I  did  not  think  you  had  been  hurt  so  bad." 

"I  was  smiling  because  I  did  not  wish  anyone  to  know 
how  badly  I  felt.  I  didn't  want  my  enemies  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  laughing  over  it." 

"Do  you  consider  this  Elegant  Ed  an  enemy?" 

"I  don't  know  why  he  should  be,  but  still  he  may  be.  I 
feel  sure  his  Unknown  is  an  enemy." 

"And  Clair  did  not  tell  you  the  truth  about  the  fellow's 
name  ?" 

"No,  there  is  no  such  person  as  Charles  Garland 
stopping  here.  Clair  lied  to  shield  the  fellow." 

"I  do  not  believe  his  Unknown  was  stopping  at  the 
hotel  at  all." 


Still  Another  Foe.  in 

"It  is  possible  he  was  not.  I  saw  mockery  in  Clair's 
face  all  the  while  he  was  talking  so  smoothly." 

"Look  avay  oudt  for  him,  Merry,"  advised  Hans, 
wisely. 

"I  shall  do  that,"  said  Frank.  "I  beat  him  out  of  money 
by  winning  that  game,  and  he  may  desire  revenge." 

"But  the  appearance  of  Wat  Snell  was  remarkable  1" 
said  Bruce.  "Why,  Frank,  it  seems  that  all  your  old  foes 
are  gathering  here." 

"A  few  of  them  are  showing  up,  that  is  a  fact.  Snell 
is  dangerous  only  as  a  sneak,  but  some  of  the  others  will 
bear  watching.  Reynolds  has  been  pretty  quiet  for  a 
time.  He  is  liable  to  break  out  again." 

"If  he  does " 

"If  he  does  not  let  me  alone  now,  I  shall  have  no  mercy 
on  him.  If  I  get  him  where  I  can  squeeze  him,  I  shall 
squeeze." 

"Dot  peen  pusiness!"  cried  Hans.  "You  don'd  plame 
me  vor  dot  a  pit.  If  you  had  der  chance  I  vould  skweeze 
heem  shust  like  do.  Yaw !" 

"Bruce,"  said  Frank,  "you  will  have  to  explain  my  ab- 
sence from  camp.  Prof.  Jenks  is  sure  to  be  asking  for  me. 
Don't  tell  him  I  was  hurt  much.  Bart  will  return  here, 
and " 

There  was  a  knock  on  the  door. 

"Perhaps  that  is  news  of  the  fellow's  capture!"  ex- 
claimed Frank,  getting  up  quickly  and  going  to  the  door. 

He  flung  the  door  open,  and  just  outside  in  the  corridor 
stood  a  young  fellow  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  a  handsome 
meerschaum  pipe  in  his  mouth.  The  door  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  corridor  was  open,  and  it  was  evident  the 
room  there  was  the  one  occupied  by  the  person  in  the 
corridor.  As  Frank  appeared,  this  individual  said: 

"Excuse  me  for  disturbing  you,  but  I  happened  to 
want  a  smoke,  don't  you  know,  and  when  I  had  filled  my 


112  Still  Another  Foe. 

pipe,  I  found  there  were  no  matches  in The  Old 

Nick!" 

"I  should  say  so !"  exclaimed  Frank,  as  the  other  started 
back  in  evident  amazement. 

Frank  Merriwell  and  Rolf  Harlow  were  face  to  face ! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FAILURE    OF    THE    PURSUIT. 

Rolf  Harlow  was  one  of  Merriwcll's  bitterest  foes. 
Harlow  was  a  gambler  and  adventurer.  He  had  been 
forced  to  leave  Harvard  because  he  had  cheated  at  cards 
and  been  exposed,  whereupon  he  came  to  New  Haven  and 
sought  prey  among  the  Yale  men,  being  introduced  to  them 
by  a  student  named  Harris. 

Harris  and  Harlow  formed  a  combination,  and  for  a 
time  it  proved  very  profitable;  but  they  drew  in  among 
their  victims  some  of  Merriwell's  friends,  and  Frank  ex- 
posed their  game,  which  forced.  Harlow  to  give  up  some 
of  his  winnings  and  get  out  of  the  city. 

Harlow  swore  vengeance,  and  on  several  occasions  he 
had  found  opportunities  to  strike  at  Frank.  In  each  in- 
stance, however,  he  got  the  worst  of  it,  and  Merry  had 
seen  and  heard  nothing  of  him  for  months. 

Now  they  were  face  to  face  in  the  hotel  at  Fardale. 

"I  don't  think  I  care  for  a  match,"  muttered  Harlow, 
as  he  retreated  into  his  room  and  closed  the  door  with  a 
slam. 

"Well,  this  beats  the  dickens!"  exclaimed  Frank,  clos- 
ing his  door  and  turning  to  his  companions. 

"Who  id  vos?"  asked  Hans. 

"Rolf  Harlow.    You  remember  him,  Browning?" 

"I  should  remark!"  grunted  the  big  fellow.  "Is  that 
cur  here  ?" 

"Sure,  and  he  seemed  as  much  surprised  to  see  me  as 
I  did  to  see  him." 

"Merriwell,  this  beats  everything!  Your  enemies  arc 
flocking  in  here !  It  means  something." 


H4  Failure  of  the  Pursuit. 

"It  means  lively  times.  "I  shall  keep  my  eyes  open  fon 
squalls." 

"I  don't  think  you  had  better  remain  here  alone  in  this 
hotel." 

Frank  laughed. 

"Ridiculous !  Have  I  ever  showed  fear  of  my  ene- 
mies ?" 

"But  you  are  wounded  and  weak." 

"A  little  rap  on  the  coco — that's  nothing.  I'll  be  all 
right  to-morrow.  Just  now  I  feel  like  lying  down  and 
resting.  I  don't  suppose  my  head  will  let  me  sleep.  It 
is  my  time  for  taking  my  afternoon  ride,  and  Murphy  will 
have  Nightshade  waiting  for  me.  Go  round  to  the 
stable,  Bruce,  and  tell  him  I  can't  ride  to-day." 

Frank  showed  a  desire  to  be  alone.  He  did  not  even 
want  to  talk  over  the  appearance  of  Rolf  Harlow.  Bruce 
saw  this,  and  soon  he  and  Hans  took  their  departure. 

Browning  went  to  the  livery  stable  and  told  the  hostler 
that  Frank  would  not  ride  that  day. 

When  Bruce  and  Hans  left  the  stable,  two  lads  came  out 
of  one  of  the  stalls. 

They  were  Wat  Snell  and  Win  Harding. 

"So  Merriwell  will  not  ride!"  chuckled  Snell.  "That 
was  a  sweet  crack  he  got  on  the  nut.  I  don't  believe  he 
will  feel  like  riding  for  a  few  days  to  come." 

"It  was  a  terrible  blow,"  said  Harding.  "I  was  afraid 
he  was  killed." 

"I'd  been  glad  of  it  if  he  had  been !"  snarled  Snell.  "Oh, 
how  I  hate  that  fellow !  I  hate  him !" 

"Well,  I  haven't  any  reason  to  love  him,"  said  Harding. 
"It  seems  that  there  are  others,  too." 

"Where  is  the  horse  he  rides?"  asked  Snell. 

Harding  took  him  to  a  stall  and  showed  him  a  hand- 
some black  gelding. 

"There  tie  is,"  said  Win,  "and  he  is  a  dandy." 


Failure  of  the  Pursuit  115 

"Spirited?" 

"I  should  say  so !    He  is  full  of  fire." 

"Hard  to  handle  ?" 

"Has  been ;  but  Merriwell  handles  him  well  and  is  mak- 
ing him  one  of  the  best  saddle  horses  in  the  stable.  Murphy 
says  he  is  getting  Nightshade  broken  and  being  paid  for 
the  use  of  him  at  the  same  time." 

For  some  time  Wat  stood  looking  the  black  horse  over. 
At  last  a  savage,  crafty  look  came  into  his  face,  and  he 
grinned. 

"What  pleases  you?"  asked  Harding. 

"My  thoughts,"  was  the  answer. 

"What  were  you  thinking?" 

"Nothing  much,  only  that  Frank  Merriwell  might  take 
a  swift  ride  some  day.  I  want  you  to  fix  it  up  with 
Murphy  so  he'll  think  me  a  fine  fellow.  Does  he  ever  take 
a  drink?" 

"It's  his  worst  fault." 

"Gets  full?" 

"Sometimes." 

"That's  just  right.  Just  take  me  out  where  we  can 
get  some  stuff.  I  want  to  work  Mr.  Murphy  a  little." 

The  two  left  the  stable  and  made  their  way  to  the  hotel. 
Just  as  they  reached  the  hotel  a  number  of  the  pursuers 
of  the  masked  Unknown  were  seen  coming  down  the 
street.  The  sheriff  was  with  them,  riding  his  own  horse 
and  leading  the  animal  on  which  he  had  given  pursuit. 
,  In  front  of  the  hotel  a  crowd  gathered  to  hear  the  re- 
port. The  sheriff  looked  disgusted  as  he  came  up.  Some- 
body cried : 

"Where's  your  prisoner,  Hawkings?" 

"What  prisoner?"  growled  the  officer.  "I  ain't  had 
no  prisoner." 

"The  one  you  went  after." 

"Oh,  he  got  away  somehow." 


1 16  Failure  of  the  Pursuit. 

"You  didn't  follow  him  very  far." 

"Didn't  have  to.  Found  my  hoss  down  at  the  cross- 
roads at  Newton's.  Critter  who  took  him  was  gone,  jest 
as  if  he'd  vanished  into  the  air." 

"Couldn't  you  find  a  trace  of  him?" 

"Nary  trace.  Questioned  everybody  we  saw.  Folks 
back  along  the  road  saw  my  hoss,  but  they  all  agreed 
there  wasn't  any  rider  on  it.  They  thought  it  was  runnin* 
away  from  me." 

"That's  strange." 

"I  should  remark.  Seems  like  there  wasn't  anybody 
on  the  critter's  back  when  it  left  the  village,  but  if  you'll 
tell  me  where  the  darned  feller  who  took  him  went  to, 
I'll  be  much  obliged." 

No  one  was  able  to  tell  him,  and  Fardale  found  a  new 
feature  of  the  mystery  to  discuss. 

Nearly  an  hour  after  the  others,  Bart  Hodge  returned 
into  the  town.  He  had  stuck  to  the  search  longer,  but 
with  no  better  result  than  the  others.  He  gave  up  his 
horse,  and  hastened  to  see  Frank. 

Merry  was  on  the  bed  in  his  room,  but  was  not  sleep- 
ing. Hodge  dropped  into  a  chair,  uttering  an  exclama- 
tion of  disgust. 

"The  whelp  got  away,  Frank!"  he  exclaimed.  "He 
didn't  ride  clean  out  of  town,  either." 

"How  is  that  ?"  asked  Merry,  wearily. 

"Oh,  he  slipped  off  the  horse  before  the  outskirts  were 
reached,  sent  the  animal  flying,  and  concealed  himself  so 
not  one  of  us  saw  him.  He  is  right  here  in  town  now." 

"Well,  if  he  is  a  real  enemy  of  mine,  I  shall  hear  from 
him  again." 

"Well,  you  can  bet  you  will  hear  from  him  again,  old 
manl" 


CHAPTER   XVII. 
SNELL'S  DOWNFALL. 

Despite  the  injury  to  his  head,  Frank  passed  a  quiet 
night  and  was  feeling  much  better  in  the  morning. 

Hodge  visited  him  early  and  was  delighted  to  find 
Merry  somewhat  like  himself. 

"Why,  you  seem  to  be  doing  finely,  old  man !"  he  cried. 

"I'll  me  all  right  in  a  day  or  two,"  declared  Frank.  "My 
head  is  awfully  sore,  but  it  has  ceased  aching,  and  that  is 
a  relief." 

"You  are  lucky  that  it  wasn't  split  open.  The  butt  of 
that  cue  was  heavy  enough  to  do  the  trick." 

"And  that  fellow  must  have  struck  hard  enough." 

"He  did.  I  saw  him  swing,  but  was  not  near  enough 
to  save  you.  They  haven't  found  a  trace  of  him.  If  he 
had  killed  you,  I  don't  suppose  they  would  have  caught 
him !" 

"Let  him  go.  As  I  said  last  night,  if  he  is  an  enemy 
of  mine,  I  shall  hear  from  him  again." 

"What  is  this  about  Rolf  Harlow  being  here?  You  did 
not  say  anything  about  it,  but  Browning  told  me." 

"He  is  here." 
.      "In  this  hotel?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  he  is  a  good  man  to  look  out  for.  He  does  not 
love  you  much." 

"Not  a  bit.  I  came  near  jailing  him  for  his  hand  in  the 
little  affair  at  Blue  Cove  last  summer,  and  he  will  never 
forget  that.  I  was  surprised  to  see  him,  but  he  seemed 
more  surprised  than  I.  When  he  recognized  me,  he  nearly 
fell  down." 


n8  Snell's  Downfall. 

"Have  you  seen  him  since?" 

"No,  for  I  have  not  been  out  of  this  room.  Had  my 
supper  brought  here  last  night.  I  did  not  feel  like  stirring 
about  much  of  any." 

"Well,  Harlow  wants  to  keep  pretty  quiet,"  said  Hodge. 
"There  are  two  or  three  little  matters  hanging  over  his 
head,  and  it  would  not  take  much  to  jug  him." 

"What  do  the  people  say  about  the  affair  that  took 
place  yesterday?" 

"They  condemn  the  Unknown,  and  not  a  few  of  them 
jump  on  Elegant  Ed  pretty  hard.  You  have  all  the 
sympathy." 

Frank  smiled. 

"The  wind  has  changed,"  he  murmured.  "At  one  time, 
while  we  were  playing  that  game,  the  sympathy  of  the 
spectators  was  with  Glair's  man." 

"That  wasn't  strange.  Clair  stands  well  in  town,  for 
all  of  his  reputation.  There  was  a  mystery  about  the 
masked  fellow  that  aroused  interest  in  him,  and  he  seemed 
to  be  beating  you  without  an  effort.  That  was  why  sym- 
pathy was  with  him." 

Frank  wished  to  say  that  the  real  reason  was  because 
Bart  had  displayed  so  much  temper,  but  he  refrained,  not 
wishing  to  hurt  the  feelings  of  his  friend. 

"But  you  did  win  out  in  beautiful  style!"  Bart  cried. 
"That  run  would  have  made  a  professional  gasp.  And 
then  you  captured  the  whole  thing  by  finishing  with  the 
very  shot  the  other  fellow  missed.  It  was  great.  You 
had  the  sympathy  of  the  crowd  when  the  game  was  fin- 
ished." 

"Which  goes  to  illustrate  how  fickle  a  crowd  generally 
is.  I  have  seen  many  instances  of  this  fickleness." 

The  boys  chatted  for  some  time,  and  then  Bart  de- 
parted. 


Snell's  Downfall.  119 

Frank  took  a  late  breakfast,  after  which  the  doctor  came 
to  see  him  and  looked  at  the  wound. 

"I  think  you'll  be  all  right  before  long,  young  man,"  he 
said.  "How  are  you  feeling?" 

"First  rate  this  morning,  doctor." 

"Well,  keep  quiet  to-day.  Don't  exert  yourself  enough 
to  send  the  blood  to  your  head.  I'll  wash  the  wound  again 
to-night.  Oh,  yes !  you'll  do  finely !  You  are  all  right." 

Frank  was  permitted  to  read  a  certain  length  of  time, 
and  that  was  some  satisfaction  to  him,  for  he  always  liked 
to  have  a  book  in  his  hand  when  he  was  sitting  still. 

About  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  cards  came  up  to 
Frank  telling  him  Inza  Burrage  and  May  Blossom  were 
in  the  ladies'  parlor. 

Inza  and  May  had  called  to  learn  how  Frank  was  and 
offer  sympathy.  They  were  left  alone  in  the  parlor  while 
their  cards  were  taken  up  to  Merry. 

Barely  had  the  boy  departed  with  their  cards  when  into 
the  parlor  walked  Wat  Snell. 

"Ah!"  said  Snell,  in  his  soft,  oily  way;  "delighted,  I 
assure  you.  I  thought  I  recognized  you  when  you 
came  in." 

Both  girls  stared  at  him  in  surprise,  for  neither  remem- 
bered having  seen  him  before. 

Snell  had  been  warned  by  Harding  that  it  was  best  to 
keep  away  from  the  girls,  as  they  had  given  Harding  and 
Reynolds  the  "marble  heart,"  but,  overflowing  with  self- 
conceit,  the  fellow  fancied  he  would  be  able  to  make  an 
impression  on  them,  and  so  he  hastened  to  them  in  the 
parlor. 

"Of  course  you  remember  me !"  said  Snell.  "It  wouldn't 
be  possible  for  you  to  forget  me." 

May  drew  a  bit  closer  to  Inza,  who  coldly  said : 

"I  do  not  think  we  have  the  honor  of  your  acquaint- 
ance, sir." 


I2O  Snell's  Downfall. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  have — yes,  you  have,"  said  Snell,  hur- 
riedly. "You  both  know  me." 

"I  think  you  are  mistaken." 

"Not  in  the  least,  Miss  Burrage.  You  see,  I  know  you. 
Ha !  ha !  And  I  know  Miss  Blossom.  Ha !  ha !" 

"I  do  not  presume  you  found  it  very  difficult  to  learn 
our  names." 

"You  do  me  an  injustice — you  wrong  me.  Why,  is  it 
possible  you  have  forgotten  me?  I  am  Watson  Snell." 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  Inza  said : 

"We  do  not  know  a  Watson  Snell,  so  now  it  is  certain 
you  have  made  a  mistake." 

Snell  had  announced  his  name  as  if  that  would  settle 
it.  He  seemed  to  expect  them  to  start  and  utter  exclama- 
tions of  delight.  His  face  fell  with  disappointment  and 
chagrin  as  he  heard  Inza's  cool  words. 

"Is  it  possible?"  he  slowly  said.  "Why,  you  knew  me 
well  enough  once  when  I  was  a  cadet  here  at  the  academy. 
I  feel  greatly  mortified  at  having  been  forgotten  so  soon." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  I  do  remember  him,"  murmured 
May.  Then  she  added,  in  a  whisper : 

"And  I  never  liked  him.  I  think  he  was  one  of  Mr. 
Merriwell's  enemies." 

"Of  course  you  remember  me!"  exclaimed  Wat,  relief 
and  satisfaction  showing  on  his  foxy  face.  "We  were  well 
acquainted  then.  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  now.  Back 
visiting  Fardale,  don't  you  know.  My  father  is  in  Japan. 
He's  rich.  He's  making  wads  of  money  in  tea.  Oh,  the 
old  man  is  a  long-headed  old  duffer.  And  he'll  leave  me 
all  his  dust  when  he  shuffles  off.  I'll  have  money  to  burn. 
Have  lots  of  it  now.  I  like  to  burn  it,  too.  Girls,  I'll 
take  you  out  driving,  and  I'll " 

"You  will  oblige  us  by  leaving  the  room,  sir!"  came 
sharply  from  Inza's  lips,  as  she  and  May  started  to  their 


SnelPs  Downfall.  121 

feet,  Snexl  having  pressed  close  upon  them.  "We  do  not 
desire  your  company !" 

"Eh!"  said  Wat,  again  surprised.  "Oh,  come,  now! 
That's  all  foolishness.  I  am  the  best  fellow  you  ever  saw. 
Far  better  than  that  cad  Merriwell.  I  have  more  money 
than  he,  and " 

"You  insult  us  by  seeming  to  think  that  you  can  buy 
our  friendship  with  your  money.  We  do  not  care  if  you 
have  two  million  dollars  and  Frank  Merriwell  has  not  a 
cent !  He  is  a  man,  and  you " 

Inza  stopped  short,  fearing  to  say  any  more. 

Snell  looked  angry,  and  then  attempted  to  bully  them. 

"Sit  down,"  he  ordered,  insolently.  "I  want  to  talk 
to  you.  I  tell  you  to  sit  down !" 

"We  refuse !" 

Inza's  arm  was  about  May,  who  was  trembling  violently 
and  pressing  close  to  her.  Inza's  eyes  were  flashing  and 
her  face  full  of  scorn. 

"You  had  better  sit  down  here  and  hear  what  I  have  to 
say,"  came  from  Snell.  "You  can't  get  away  till  I  have 
said  what  I  want  to." 

"Mr.  Merriwell " 

"Is  laid  up  in  his  room  with  a  nice  cracked  skull.  He 
is  in  no  shape  to  bother  anybody  now,  and  he  won't  bother 
anybody  for  several  days  to  come,  so  you  need  not  look  to 
him  for  aid." 

"There  is  where  you  make  a  mistake,  Snell !"  said  a 
stern  voice  behind  the  insulting  fellow. 

Snell  recognized  that  voice,  and,  with  a  gasp  of  fear, 
tried  to  turn  about  quickly.  Before  he  could  turn,  Frank 
Merriwell's  hands  grasped  him  by  the  collar,  gave  him 
a  swing,  and  he  was  fairly  carried  out  of  the  room. 

The  parlor  opened  upon  the  front  hall.  On  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  hall  was  a  door  that  opened  into  the 
office.  This  door  was  open,  and  several  persons  in  the 


122  Snell's  Downfall. 

office  were  astonished  to  see  Wat  Snell  come  flying  from 
the  parlor,  his  hair  almost  lifting  his  hat  from  his  head, 
his  face  convulsed  with  fear,  while  he  was  propelled  by  a 
determined-looking  youth  who  wore  a  bandage  about  his 
head  and  who  had  him  gripped  by  the  collar  and  a  con- 
venient portion  of  his  fashionable  trousers. 

"Snell,"  said  Frank,  as  he  hustled  the  fellow  to  the  front 
door,  "you  chose  a  very  inopportune  time  to  molest  those 
young  ladies.  This  is  gentle  treatment  compared  to  what 
you  will  receive  if  you  bother  them  again." 

Then  Wat  was  sent  shooting  out  of  the  door  with  such 
violence  that  he  fairly  pitched  down  the  steps  and  could 
not  recover  his  equilibrium,  whereupon  he  reeled  across 
the  sidewalk  and  plunged  headlong  into  the  dust. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

SNELL    PLOTS    REVENGE. 

Snell  arose  and  picked  up  his  hat.  He  was  covered  witK 
dirt  and  was  very  furious.  A  number  of  the  villagers 
had  seen  his  sudden  ejectment  from  the  hotel,  and,  while 
they  wondered  not  a  little  thereat,  they  were  filled  with 
merriment  and  laughed  openly. 

The  angry  youth  knew  they  were  laughing  at  the  lu- 
dicrous spectacle  he  presented,  and  that  made  him  all  the 
more  furious.  He  picked  his  hat  up  from  the  dust,  glared 
at  the  laughing  citizens,  and  viciously  grated : 

"Laugh,  you  confounded  idiots !  You  don't  know  any 
better!  You  are  all  a  lot  of  jays !" 

Then,  seized  by  sudden  and  almost  uncontrollable  fury 
at  the  author  of  his  downfall,  he  wheeled  about  and  shook 
his  fist  at  the  hotel,  snarling : 

"That  shall  cost  you  dear,  Mr.  Merriwell !  I'll  fix  you  1 
You  won't  escape  with  a  simple  crack  on  the  head !  I'll 
fix  you!" 

Frank  had  not  paused  at  the  door,  but  coolly  returned 
to  the  girls  in  the  parlor,  saying : 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  young  ladies,  for  the  scene,  but  it 
seemed  the  proper  thing  to  do  under  the  circumstances." 

Inza  laughed  merrily. 

"Oh,  Frank !"  she  cried,  "if  you  could  have  seen  the 
look  on  his  face  when  he  heard  you  speak  and  felt  you 
grasp  him !  It  was  the  most  comical  expression  of  fear !" 

"I  hope  you  did  not  hurt  him?"  said  May,  always 
tender-hearted  and  thoughtful  of  even  her  enemies. 

"Not  in  the  .least,  Miss  Blossom,"  smiled  Merry.  "I 
simply  hastened  his  departure  somewhat." 


124  Snell  Plots  Revenge. 

"But  you  do  not  seem  to  be  hurt  so  badly  yourself," 
said  Inza,  seriously.  "We  didn't  suppose  you  were  able  to 
do  anything  like  that,  and " 

"Well,"  said  Merry,  still  smiling,  "I  believe  the  doctor 
did  warn  me  to  refrain  from  violent  exercise,  but  there 
are  such  things  as  excusable  circumstances.  In  this  case, 
I  quite  forgot  that  I  had  been  tapped  on  the  head  at  all." 

"How  are  you,  Frank?"  asked  Inza.     "We  heard " 

"Oh,  yes !"  cried  May ;  "we  heard  you  had  been  hurt, 
oh,  so  badly!" 

"That  was  a  mistake.  I  was  struck  on  the  head,  but 
it  was  a  glancing  blow — a  mere  nothing.  I  shall  be  all 
right  in  a  very  few  days." 

"But  we  heard  your  head  had  been  cut  open,"  spoke 
Inza. 

"How  they  do  exaggerate  such  things  in  a  country  vil- 
lage!" laughed  Frank.  "Why,  it  was  a  mere  nothing—- 
the slightest  sort  of  a  wound." 

"Yet  you  say  the  doctor  told  you  to  refrain  from  vio- 
lent exercise,"  broke  in  May.  "Why  should  he  do  that 
if  the  injury  is  so  slight  ?" 

"Oh,  ah — er — he  may  be  a  crank,"  said  Merry,  con- 
fused. "He — he  seemed  to  think  I  had  been  exercising 
too  much  lately." 

Inza  smiled  knowingly.  Frank  could  not  deceive  her, 
and  she  understood  that  he  had  been  injured  far  more 
seriously  than  he  wished  to  confess.  They  sat  down  and 
talked. 

"It's  too  bad  we  will  not  get  our  ride  together  to- 
morrow, Frank,"  said  Inza.  "I  have  been  thinking  of 
that  so  much." 

"Perhaps  we  may  be  able  to  take  it." 

"Oh,  not  to-morrow !  You  must  obey  the  doctor,  even 
if  he  is  whimsical.  But  we  may  have  it " 

"Friday— how  will  that  do?" 


Snell  Plots  Revenge.  125 

A  bit  of  shadow  came  to  Inza's  face. 

"Friday  is  my  unlucky  day,"  she  said;  "but  I  have  an 
engagement  for  Saturday,  and  I  don't  think  I  can  go  the 
first  of  next  week." 

"Then  we  must  make  it  Friday.  You  are  not  super- 
stitious, Inza?" 

"I  am  afraid  I  am — some,"  she  confessed.  "All  the  un- 
lucky things  have  happened  to  me  Friday.  I  am  afraid  of 
the  day,  and  I  have  gotten  into  the  habit  of  keeping  still 
and  doing  almost  nothing  every  Friday." 

Frank  laughed  merrily,  jollying  her  a  little  on  her  fool- 
ish fears. 

"My  dear  girl,"  he  said,  "you  will  make  a  hoodoo  day 
for  your  whole  life  if  you  give  in  to  this  notion.  It  will 
be  a  day  of  horror  for  you  constantly.  You  must  refuse 
to  take  any  stock  in  such  a  silly  superstition;  you  must 
not  regard  Friday  any  differently  than  any  other  day." 

"If  you  but  knew  all  the  things  that  happened  to  me 
on  that  day,  you  would  see  that  I  have  a  reason  to 
fear  it." 

"If  so  many  bad  things  have  happened,  then,  it's  all  the 
more  reason  why  you  should  not  allow  the  superstition  to 
get  a  hold  on  you.  Come,  hereafter  we'll  see  that  some 
of  the  pleasant  things  happen  Friday.  We  will  begin 
with  next  Friday,  too.  You  and  I  will  ride  out  together, 
then,  and  I  am  sure  that  will  be  very  pleasant  for  me." 

She  gave  him  a  quick  look  with  her  dark  eyes.  He  was 
regarding  her  steadily,  wondering  at  her  fear  of  a  certain 
day  in  the  week,  for  she  had  ever  seemed  so  self-reliant 
and  fearless.  Her  eyes  drooped  before  his,  and  she  mur- 
mured : 

"Well,  Frank,  if  you  wish  it,  we  will  ride  next  Friday." 

Thus  it  was  settled.  They  remained  with  him  some- 
what less  than  an  hour,  and  he  felt  much  better  when  they 
departed. 


126  Snell  Plots  Revenge. 

After  his  overthrow,  Snell  betook  himself  to  the  livery 
stable,  there  to  hide  from  the  villagers,  who  were  laughing 
at  his  plight.  Once  inside  the  stable,  he  hastily  felt  of 
his  hip  pocket,  and  an  expression  of  satisfaction  came  over 
his  face. 

"It's  all  right,"  he  said.  "I  was  afraid  it  was  lost  or 
broken.  I'll  need  a  good  pull  from  it  after  this  cursed 
affair.  I  want  something  to  steady  my  nerves." 

Slipping  into  a  stall,  he  took  a  flat  bottle  from  his  pocket 
and  proceeded  to  drink  from  it.  It  was  filled  with  whisky, 
and  Snell  took  a  stiff  drink. 

"Ah!"  he  said,  gasping  for  breath.  "That's  terrible 
stuff!  It  needs  watering — it's  too  strong.  Nothing  is  too 
strong  for  me  as  I  feel  now.  I  could  drink  fire !" 

"So  could  Oi,  me  b'y!"  exclaimed  a  voice  that  had  a 
broad  brogue,  and  Murphy,  the  hostler,  appeared,  looking 
into  the  stall.  "It's  not  a  drap  Oi've  had  fer  an  hour,  an' 
me  neck  is  so  dry  it  squeaks.  Give  me  jist  a  nip  av  thot, 
will  yez?" 

"Sure,  Mike!"  cried  Snell,  with  pretended  heartiness. 
"Take  all  of  it,  if  you  like !  You  are  welcome  to  it.  Here 
you  go!  Drink  hearty." 

"Thin  may  ye  live  to  ate  the  hen  thot  scratches  over  yer 
grave,"  said  Murphy,  huskily,  grasping  the  bottle  and  fas- 
tening his  lips  to  the  nozzle. 

Scarcely  a  bit  did  he  leave  in  it  when  he  had  finished, 
and  Wat  saw  by  his  condition  that  he  had  been  drinking 
heavily  before. 

"It's  roight  proime  ould  shtuff  thot  is,"  declared  the 
hostler.  "Oi  loike  th'  whisky  thot  scratches  all  th'  way 
down  yer  goozle.  Thin  ye  know  ye're  not  drinkin'  milk. 
Wan-half  th'  whisky  they  sell  in  this  country  is  ounly  fit 
fer  tathing  babies." 

In  a  little  while  Murphy  became  too  full  to  attend  to 


Snell  Plots  Revenge.  127 

his  duties  properly,  whereupon  Snell,  although  he  did  not 
fancy  the  task,  took  hold  and  did  the  work  for  the  hostler. 

"It's  a  roight  foine  broth  av  a  b'y  ye  are,"  declared  the 
hostler.  "It's  not  minny  lads  would  do  th'  same  fer  me, 
an'  Oi  won't  fergit  it.  Oi'm  jist  a  troifle  out  av  joint,  but 
Oi'll  come  round  all  roight  afther  a  little." 

"You  are  all  right,  Murphy,"  said  Wat,  familiarly. 
"Keep  still.  I'll  give  you  a  lift  any  time.  Do  you  ever 
let  that  black  horse  to  anybody  but  Frank  Merriwell  ?" 

"Oh,  yis ;  but  Mr.  Merriwell  has  had  him  almost  ivery 
day  before  he  was  afther  gettin'  hurted.  Poor  Merriwell ! 
It's  a  roight  foine  lad  he  is !" 

"He  is  all  of  that,"  said  Snell.  "I  think  a  great  deal  of 
him.  I'd  like  to  see  him  ride.  They  say  he  rides  well." 

"Well,  is  it  ?  Oi  should  say  thot !  It's  a  foine  soight  to 
see  him  on  thot  crayther  a-gallopin'  along  th'  strate." 

"Let  me  know  when  he  is  going  to  ride  next  time,  will 
you  ?  I  want  to  see  him  start  off." 

"Oi  will  thot.    Oi'll  let  yez  know  forninsthand." 

"Don't  forget  it,  Murphy." 

"Niver.  Oi'd  not  think  av  forgettin'  such  a  real  foine 
young  gint  as  yersilf  fer  th'  soight  av  me  two  oies." 

Snell  turned  away.  There  was  a  look  of  satisfaction  on 
his  face,  and  he  muttered : 

"All  I  want  is  a  hand  in  the  saddling  of  that  horse  when 
Mr.  Frank  Merriwell  is  going  to  ride!  It  will  be  that 
fellow's  last  ridel" 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  MYSTERY  SOLVED. 

Friday,  at  the  appointed  time,  Inza  met  Frank  at  the 
hotel. 

"I  have  ordered  the  horses,"  he  said.  "A  handsome 
white  one  for  you,  and  Nightshade  for  me." 

Then,  noticing  a  displeased  look  on  her  face,  he  quickly 
asked : 

"What  is  the  matter  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing,"  she  answered,  "only  I  detest  white 
horses." 

"This  is  the  next  best  horse  in  the  stable  to  the  one  I 
am  going  to  have." 

She  bit  her  lip. 

"So  you  are  going  to  give  me  the  second  best  and  take 
the  best  yourself !  Well,  I  must  say " 

"There  is  a  good  reason,"  he  hastily  interrupted,  seeing 
she  was -.growing  angry,  for  a  flush  was  mounting  to  her 
cheeks.  "Nightshade  is  the  horse  I  will  ride,  and  he  is 
considered  rather  dangerous.  He  is  a  very  spirited 
animal." 

"I  have  ridden  spirited  horses.  I  don't  know  as  I  care 
to  ride  to-day." 

"Don't  be  foolish,  Inza.  You  shall  have  the  black  horse 
if  you  want  him,  and  I  will  take  the  white  one.  I  will  send 
round  an  order  to  change  the  saddles." 

Frank  did  so  without  delay,  and  the  horses  were  brought 
round  after  a  little,  with  the  lady's  saddle  on  the  black  one. 

Wat  Snell  was  watching  from  a  distance,  and  he  was 
astonished  when  he  saw  what  change  had  been  made.  He 
had  filled  Murphy  with  whisky  till  the  hostler  was  so  drunk 
that  he  was  ready  to  do  anything,  and  then  had  bribed  the 


The  Mystery  Solved.  129 

fellow  to  place  a  tack  beneath  the  saddle  of  the  black  horse, 
SQ  that  it  would  be  driven  into  the  animal  when  he  was 
mounted. 

"It's  nothing  but  a  joke,"  he  had  assured  the  hostler. 
"I'll  give  you  twenty-five  dollars  to  do  it." 

And  the  hostler  had  agreed. 

Now,  on  seeing  the  change  of  saddles,  Snell  was  star- 
tled and  disgusted. 

"My  scheme  has  failed !"  he  muttered,  angrily.  "The 
saddles  have  been  changed,  and  I  don't  believe  Murphy 
had  wits  enough  to  fix  the  tack  on  the  white  horse." 

He  saw  Frank  assist  Inza  to  mount,  and  then,  as  the 
girl  reached  the  saddle  of  the  black  horse,  a  startling  thing 
happened.  With  a  snort  of  pain,  the  animal  reared,  pawed 
the  air  with  his  forward  feet,  came  down,  kicked,  bucked 
and  dashed  away. 

Inza  retained  her  seat  in  a  remarkable  manner  througfi 
all  this.  Frank  sprang  to  grasp  the  animal,  but  was  too 
late.  With  frantic  haste  he  mounted  the  white  horse  and 
started  in  pursuit. 

A  curse  of  fear  and  dismay  escaped  Snell.        * 

"The  drunken  fool !"  he  grated.  "Murphy  changed  the 
tack.  He  was  bound  to  earn  his  twenty-five  dollars  by  put- 
,ting  it  under  the  saddle  of  the  black  horse — and  he  has 
earned  it !" 

At  a  distance  down  the  street  Rolf  Harlow  saw  the 
black  horse  rear,  kick  and  buck.  He  realized  that  Inza 
Burrage  was  in  danger,  and  right  then  and  there  he  fan- 
cied had  come  his  opportunity  to  do  a  heroic  act  and  make 
himself  "solid"  in  Fardale.  So  as  the  horse  came  tearing 
down  the  street,  he  rushed  out  to  stop  it. 

Harlow  tried  to  catch  the  animal  by  the  bit.  He  made 
a  spring  at  the  creature's  head,  but  was  knocked  down  in  a 
twinkling.  He  was  struck  by  the  feet  of  the  black  horse, 
the  creature  seeming  frantic  with  fear  or  pain. 


130  The  Mystery  Solved. 

On  tore  the  horse,  bearing  the  girl  on  its  back,  and  Har- 
low  lay  prone  and  motionless  in  the  dust  of  the  street. 

Frank  had  mounted  the  white  horse,  and  he  thundered 
down  the  road  in  pursuit  of  the  runaway,  carefully  avoid- 
ing Rolf. 

The  amazed  and  startled  citizens  ran  out  into  the  street 
and  watched  the  runaway  and  the  pursuer  till  both  passed 
out  of  sight. 

Harlow  was  picked  up  and  carried  into  the  hotel.  The 
doctor  was  at  his  side  in  a  short  time,  and  it  was  found 
that  two  of  his  ribs  had  been  broken.  It  was  feared  that 
he  had  also  sustained  some  internal  injuries  that  might 
prove  fatal. 

In  the  meantime  Frank  was  doing  his  best  to  overtake 
and  stop  the  horse  that  was  running  away  with  Inza.  He 
was  filled  with  admiration  by  the  superb  manner  in  which 
the  girl  rode,  but  his  heart  quivered  with  fear  at  her 
danger. 

It  was  a  furious  race.  Out  of  the  village  they  went, 
along  the  country  roads  they  tore. 

Frank  could  not  see  the  face  of  the  girl  on  the  black 
horse,  but  he  knew  it  must  be  white  with  fear.  He  could 
not  understand  why  the  animal  seemed  frantic  with  fear 
or  pain. 

But  he  remembered  how  Inza  had  said  that  Friday  was 
her  unlucky  day,  and  his  heart  smote  him.  He  blamed 
himself  for  urging  her  to  ride  that  day.  Not  once  did  the 
generous  fellow  think  of  blaming  her  for  insisting  on 
changing  mounts. 

At  last  it  seemed  that  he  was  gaining  on  her.  He  was 
near  enough  to  call  to  her,  and  he  told  her  to  cling  fast, 
promising  that  he  would  save  her. 

All  at  once  the  black  horse  sheered  from  the  roads  and 
took  to  the  fields,  heading  straight  toward  the  distant  river. 
Inza  seemed  quite  unable  to  guide  the  animal. 


The  Mystery  Solved.  131 

He  called  for  her  to  rein  the  horse  about,  but  the  crea- 
ture had  the  bit  in  its  teeth,  and  would  not  respond. 

Frantically  Frank  urged  on  the  white  horse,  praying  to 
overtake  Inza  before  the  river  was  reached. 

He  could  not  do  it.  His  heart  sank  as  he  saw  the  river 
a  short  distance  ahead.  He  realized  that  at  that  point  there 
were  high  banks  and  bluffs.  He  shuddered  at  the  danger. 

The  black  horse  seemed  blind  with  pain.  Straight  to- 
ward one  of  the  high  bluffs  he  plunged — straight  over  it  he 
went,  carrying  the  girl  with  him. 

And,  in  mad  pursuit,  Frank  followed,  riding  the  white 
horse  over  the  bluff. 

As  the  white  horse  leaped,  Frank  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Inza  and  the  black  gelding  in  the  river  below.  There  was 
a  rush  of  air  past  his  ears,  a  splash,  and  he  was  in  the 
river. 

No  longer  did  he  cling  to  the  white  horse,  but  he  let  the 
creature  go,  left  it  to  its  fate.  He  saw  Inza's  head  come 
above  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  he  made  a  plunge 
for  her. 

He  reached  her,  held  her  fast,  sustained  her,  and  fought 
his  way  to  the  shore  with  her.  Reaching  a  point  where 
the  bank  was  sloping,  he  caught  a  bush,  held  fast,  dragged 
himself  and  Inza  from  the  water,  and  found,  when  they 
were  safe,  that  neither  of  them  were  injured. 

Wat  Snell  was  furious  when  an  old  farmer  brought 
Frank  and  Inza  back  to  town,  and  it  was  reported  that 
Merriwell  had  done  a  heroic  act  in  saving  the  girl. 

"Just  his  cursed  luck !"  grated  Snell.  "Everything  turns 
in  his  favor.  I  thought  to  injure  him,  and  that  drunken 
fool  of  a  hostler  bungled  the  job." 

Both  horses  were  recovered,  and  Snell  was  shrewd 
enough  to  unsaddle  the  black  and  remove  the  tack  that 
might  have  betrayed  the  plot.  It  was  not  known  why  the 
horse  acted  so  strangely  the  moment  Inza  was  in  the  saddle. 


132  The  Mystery  Solved. 

Harlow's  injuries  were  severe,  and  it  was  feared  they 
might  prove  fatal.  Frank  felt  sorry  for  the  fellow,  for 
Harlow  had  seemed  to  do  a  brave  act  in  trying  to  stop  the 
horse. 

But,  on  the  following  morning,  Hodge  came  bursting; 
into  Frank's  room,  wildly  excited. 

"What  do  you  think?"  he  cried.  "It's  all  out  now! 
We  know  who  thumped  you  on  the  head,  Merry !" 

"Is  that  so?"  asked  Merry,  with  interest.  "Who 
did  it?" 

"Harlow !" 

"Impossible !" 

"It's  a  fact." 

"How  do  you  know  ?" 

"He  gave  it  away." 

"When?" 

"Last  night.  He  was  out  of  his  head,  you  know — a  little 
daffy.  He  kept  raving,  and  the  watchers  heard  the  whole 
story.  He  told  how  he  played  billiards  with  you,  how 
he  struck  you,  how  he  fled,  how  he  jumped  from  the  horse 
almost  before  it  was  out  of  the  village,  and  how  he  cut  back 
to  the  hotel,  where  he  saw  you  when  you  were  given  a 
room." 

"By  Jove !  that  is  wonderful !  Do  you  know,  I  sus- 
pected the  fellow,  but  it  did  not  seem  possible.  Clair  must 
have  met  him  and  brought  him  to  town.  It  is  clear  enough 
now." 

"Yes,"  said  Hodge,  grimly,  "it  is  clear  enough,  and  you 
can  jail  him  if  he  recovers." 

"I  shall  not." 

"What?" 

"If  he  recovers,  I  shall  not  molest  him.  I  think  he  has 
received  punishment  enough.  All  I  ask  is  that  he  will  let 
me  alone  in  the  future." 

"He  won't  1"  said  Hodge. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

HANS  KICKS  A  FOOTBALL. 

"Hurro!" 

"Lookout!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"A  wild  man!" 

"It's  mesilf ,  b'ys !    Hurro !" 

Through  the  underbrush  came  crashing  an  excited  and 
delighted-looking  Irish  lad.  He  burst  like  a  whirlwind 
into  the  little  glade  where  three  tents  were  pitched. 

In  the  midst  of  the  glade  Ephraim  Gallup  was  cooking 
coffee  on  the  coals  of  a  smoldering  fire.  Frank,  Bruce, 
Bart  and  Hans  had  been  sitting  or  lying  about  in  posi- 
tions of  comfort  and  repose,  while  they  watched  the  coffee- 
making. 

At  the  first  wild  shout  that  came  from  the  thickest  por- 
tion of  the  woods  they  started  up.  As  they  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  human  being  that  came  furiously  lunging 
toward  them,  they  leaped  to  their  feet,  with  exclamations 
of  alarm. 

Then  into  the  glade  came  a  youth  whose  clothing  had 
been  torn  by  the  thick  underbrush,  whose  appearance  was 
one  of  general  disorder,  whose  face  glowed  with  delight, 
and  who  wildly  waved  his  cap  and  cheered  till  the  woods 
rang. 

"It's  Barney — Barney  Mulloy !"  cried  Frank. 

"Roight,  me  darlint !"  cried  the  new  arrival,  as  he  leaped, 
forward  and  grasped  Merry's  hand,  which  he  wrung  with 
savage  delight.  "It's  mesilf,  big  as  loife  an'  twoice  as 
nacheral!  Begobs !  it's  a  soight  fer  sore  oies  ye  are, 
Frankie !" 


134  Hans  Kicks  a  Football. 

He  danced  and  pranced  as  he  clung  to  Frank's  hand. 
He  cheered  again.  In  many  ways  he  showed  his  inex- 
pressible pleasure. 

"Look  ad  here,  Irish,"  said  Hans,  waddling  up  to  the 
newcomer,  "you  act  like  I  vos  grazy.  Vot  vos  der  madder 
mit  me,  ain'd  id  ?" 

"Hillo,  ye  Dutch  chaze!"  shouted  Barney  Mulloy,  for 
the  newcomer  was,  indeed,  Frank  Merriwell's  Irish  friend. 
"Is  this  yersilf  Oi  see?  Begorra,  Oi'd  know  yez  by  th' 
smell !" 

"Vash  is  dot  ?"  gasped  Hans,  in  astonished  anger.  "Vot 
you  meant  to  toldt  me?  Uf  you  don'd  smell  as  goot  as  me, 
you  vos  a  liar  S" 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  but  chaze  ye  smill  av,  an'  wan  boight 
av  thot  will  perfume  yer  brith  fer  a  wake.  It's  tickled  Oi 
am  to  see  yez." 

"Vale,  I  don'd  know  apoudt  dot,"  said  the  Dutch  lad, 
resentfully,  hesitating  about  accepting  the  proffered  hand. 
"You  vos  insulted  py  me  alretty,  und  I  don'd  like  dot." 

"Is  it  an  insult  ye  take  it  fer?  To  th'  Quid  B'y  wid 
yez!" 

Then  Barney  shook  hands  with  Bart,  Bruce  and  Eph- 
raim,  seeming  delighted  to  see  them  all. 

"What  made  you  come  crashing  through  the  bushes?" 
asked  Frank.  "Why  didn't  you  come  by  the  path  ?" 

"Couldn't  shtop,  me  b'y,"  answered  Barney.  "Oi  saw 
yer  shmoke,  an'  Oi  made  a  straight  break  fer  it.  Jack 
troied  to  folly  me,  but  he  couldn't  kapc  up  at  all,  at  all." 

"Jack?    Who  is  Jack?" 

"Jack  Doiamond." 

"What?"  Frank  almost  shouted.    "Jack  here?" 

"Sure,  lad.  We  both  came  in  on  th'  soame  train.  Here 
is  th'  spalpane." 

Out  through  the  thick  bushes  another  lad  pushed  Bis 
way  and  entered  the  glade,  a  look  of  disgust  on  his  hand- 


Hans  Kicks  a  Football.  135 

some  face.  He  was  carrying  a  football  under  his  arm,  and 
this  he  flung  at  Barney  the  moment  he  appeared. 

"Confound  you !  take  care  of  your  old  football  1"  he 
cried.  "When  you  saw  the  smoke,  you  dropped  the  thing 
and  ran  like  a  frightened  rabbit.  You'd  lost  it  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  me." 

"Thank  yez,  Jack,"  grinned  Barney,  as  he  picked  up  the 
ball. 

"And  it's  a  nice  way  you  took  to  get  here,"  Diamond 
went  on.  "Why,  I'm  a  total  wreck  from  trying  to  follow 
you  through  that  jungle.  How  are  you,  Frank !  Howdy, 
fellows !" 

The  Virginian  shook  hands  with  all  of  them,  beginning 
with  Merry.  His  dark  face  cleared  somewhat,  but  he  had 
not  entirely  recovered  from  his  journey  through  the  thick 
brush. 

As  Jack  shook  hands  with  Hans,  the  Dutch  boy  said,  in 
a  hoarse  stage  whisper : 

"You  had  petter  took  dot  Irish  veller  right  avay  queek. 
I  vos  insulted  mit  him,  und  ven  I  vos  insulted,  you  vos  a 
tangerous  man.  I  don'd  stood  no  insults  vrom  an  Irish- 
man vot  haf  a  face  dot  looks  exactly  like  a  squash  pie.  I 
vos  allretty  to  caldt  him  oudt  und  shot  him  der  lifer  in." 

At  this  Barney  crowed  like  a  rooster,  ending  with  a 
chuckling  laugh. 

"Shust  you  kept  dot  up!"  muttered  Hans.  "I  don'd 
stood  id  more  as  zwei  hundret  years !" 

"Well,  Jack,"  said  Frank,  "you  didn't  let  me  know  you 
were  coming  to-day,  or  we'd  been  at  the  station  to  meet 
you." 

"I  intended  to  give  you  a  surprise,"  said  Diamond ;  "but 
Barney  ruined  the  effect  I  wanted  to  produce." 

"Begorra!  Oi  forgot  all  about  thot  surproise  we 
planned  to  give  th'  b'ys,"  confessed  the  Irish  lad. 


136  Hans  Kicks  a  Football. 

"But  I  thought  you  fellows  were  camping  with  the 
cadets,  Merry,"  said  Diamond. 

"We  were,"  said  Merry ;  "but  we  decided  to  get  out  of 
camp  for  certain  reasons  and  have  a  camp  of  our  own. 
You  see,  it  was  not  possible  for  us  to  take  all  of  our  friends 
right  into  the  cadet  camp  to  stop.  We  came  here  to  Wild- 
flower  Dell,  which  is  not  very  far  from  the  academy,  and 
this  is  to  be  a  genuine  Yale  camp.  Here  we  can  do  as  we 
like,  and  we  will  not  be  forced  to  conform  to  the  rules  and 
regulations  of  the  cadet  camp.  We  can  have  as  much 
sport  as  we  like,  and  be  as  free  as  the  birds.  What  do  you 
think  of  that  ?" 

"I  like  it.  I  was  sorry  when  I  heard  you  had  a  tent  in 
the  academy  camp.  Of  course,  we  went  there,  where  we 
expected  to  find  you.  We  inquired  of  a  cadet,  who  said 
you  had  been  forced  to  leave  the  camp  because  of  your 
actions  while  there." 

Frank  flushed. 

"Indeed!"  he  exclaimed.  "This  is  quite  interesting! 
Who  told  you  that  ?" 

"Don't  know  what  his  name  was,  but  he  wore  chevrons." 

"Describe  him." 

Diamond  did  so. 

"Corp.  Somers !"  exclaimed  Frank  and  Bart  together. 

"I  thought  it  was  that  fellow !"  growled  Bart.  "He  told 
you  a  lie,  Jack ;  we  left  the  camp  voluntarily.  Lieut.  Gor- 
don, who  has  charge  of  the  encampment,  asked  us  to  re- 
main. This  Somers  has  a  grudge  against  Merry — hates 
him.  You  know  how  popular  Merry  is  at  college.  Well, 
he  was  just  as  popular  here  when  he  was  a  cadet,  and  he 
has  been  popular  since  we  came  here  for  this  visit.  Somers 
is  jealous,  and  he  has  tried  in  different  ways  to  injure 
Frank." 

"I  heard  in  town  that  Merriwell  was  nearly  killed  by 
an  old  enemy," 


Hans  Kicks  a  Football.  137 

"I  was  given  a  pretty  good  rap  on  the  head  by  our  for- 
mer friend,  Rolf  Harlow,"  smiled  Frank. 

"Rolf  Harlow  ?"  Diamond  almost  shouted.  "Why,  that 
fellow — is  he " 

"Here — yes." 

"How  does  that  happen?" 

"Oh,  he  fell  in  with  a  local  gambler  and  sharp  who  wa& 
away  on  a  tour,  and  the  Fardale  man  brought  him  back 
here.  I  beat  him  at  a  game  of  billiards " 

"You  did?  I'm  astonished  that  you  should  play  with 
him!" 

"Didn't  know  him.  He  was  brought  in  as  an  unknown, 
and  his  face  was  hidden  by  a  mask.  When  I  beat  him,  he 
let  me  have  it  over  the  head  with  the  butt  of  a  heavy  cue, 
and  then  made  a  run  for  it.  He  got  away,  but  afterwards 
he  was  hurt  by  a  runaway  horse,  so  that  two  of  his  ribs 
were  broken  and  he  didn't  know  but  he  would  die,  so  he 
confessed  that  he  struck  me.  He's  in  bed  now,  and  won't 
get  out  for  some  weeks  to  come,  while  I  am  all  right,  and 
my  head  is  practically  well." 

"It's  no  use  for  them  to  buck  against  you,  Merriwell," 
declared  the  Virginian.  "When  they  do  so,  they  get  left. 
Boys,  I  am  glad  to  be  here.  I'll  have  my  baggage  brought 
over  from  the  station,  and  we'll  enjoy  life  here." 

"Hurro !  we  will  thot !"  shouted  Barney,  dropping  his 
football  and  giving  it  a  kick  that  sent  it  spinning  into  the 
air  and  away  into  the  bushes.  "It's  ixercoise  Oi  nadel 
Thot's  whoy  Oi  brought  th'  football.  Hurro !" 

"It's  lucky  you  kicked  it  that  way,"  said  Hodge.  "It 
would  have  gone  into  the  stream  if  you  had  kicked  it  the 
other." 

"You  will  lose  it  if  you're  not  careful,"  said  Frank.  "It 
may  be  you  have  lost  it  now." 

"Oi  reckon  Oi  can  foind  it,"  laughed  the  Irish  lad,  as  he 
plunged  into  the  bushes. 


138  Hans  Kicks  a  Football. 

The  campers  talked  a  few  moments,  while  Ephraim  con- 
tinued to  look  after  the  coffee  and  prepare  for  a  meal. 
Barney  could  be  heard  plunging  about  in  the  bushes  and 
grumbling. 

"He  don'd  found  dot  footpall,"  said  Hans.  "I  peen 
goin'  to  found  dot,  und  I  vill  hid  it  so  he  don'd  stop  hund- 
ing  righd  avay  alretty  soon.  Yaw." 

Hans  thought  that  would  be  a  good  joke,  and  so  he 
slipped  into  the  bushes  as  quietly  as  possible  to  search  for 
the  ball.  The  Dutch  lad  was  too  clumsy  to  be  very  still, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  Barney  espied  him  through  the 
brush. 

"Pwhat  are  yez  doin',  ye  Dutch  chaze?"  asked  Barney. 

"Oh,  nottings,"  answered  Hans,  evasively.  "You  don'd 
pelief  you  vos  der  only  pird  der  pushes  in,  hey?" 

"Well,  don't  yez  be  afther  throyin'  anny  av  yer  funny 
business  on  me,  or  ye'll  be  sorry  fer  thot,  me  b'y." 

"You  go  fell  on  myself!"  returned  Hans,  contemptu- 
ously. "You  vos  a  pig  pag  uf  vind." 

"Ye're  another !  Don't  ye  be  afther  touchin'  me  football 
av  ye  foind  it."  • 

"Vale,  uf  I  found  dot  vootpalls,  you  pet  me  your  life  I 
don'd  done  nottings  to  him !  Yaw !" 

Hans  was  aroused.  All  at  once,  in  the  midst  of  the 
bushes,  he  saw  an  oval  oblong  mass  that  brought  a  chuckle 
of  satisfaction  from  his  lips.  He  started  toward  it. 

Hans'  sudden  movement  attracted  Barney's  attention. 
Peering  through  the  bushes,  he  saw  the  object  toward 
which  Hans  had  started. 

"Hey!"  he  cried.  "Let  thot  football  alone,  ye  Dutch 
chaze!" 

"Oh,  you  gone  to  plazes !"  flung  back  Hans,  springing 
forward  and  giving  a  hard  kick  at  the  object,  which  was 
hanging  amid  the  bushes  about  three  feet  from  the  ground. 


Hans  Kicks  a  Football.  139 

To  the  Dutch  boy's  astonishment,  he  kicked  one-half  the 
object  away  cleanly. 

"Dunder  und  blitzens !"  he  gasped.  "Vot  kindt  ud  a 

vootpalls  vos Wow!  Murterl  Fire!  I  vos  shot! 

Hellup !  Ye-e-e-ow !" 

Out  from  the  "football"  darted  a  lot  of  little  humming 
things.  They  saw  Hans,  and  they  flew  at  him. 

He  had  kicked  a  hornet's  nest ! 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A    HOT    TIME     IN     CAMP. 

"Hellup!  Fire!  Turn  der  hose  on !  Murterl  Whoop! 
Yow !  Gid  avay !  Oh-oh !" 

Wild  howls  of  astonishment  and  pain  burst  from  the 
Dutch  lad.  He  made  a  plunge  through  the  bushes  to  es- 
cape, but  fell  down  and  thrashed  about  furiously.  The 
angry  hornets  came  out  in  a  cloud.  They  charged  on  him. 

"Safe  me !"  screamed  Hans.    "I  vos  killed  alretty !" 

He  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  tore  through  the  bushes, 
bursting  out  into  the  little  glade  where  the  tents  were 
pitched.  He  was  striking  right  and  left,  and  acting  like 
a  person  suddenly  gone  crazy. 

At  first  the  boys  could  not  understand  what  had  hap- 
pened, but,  as  Hans  went  tearing  across  the  glade  with  the 
wild  springs  of  a  frightened  hare,  they  saw  the  cloud  of 
tiny  objects  following  after  him. 

Some  of  the  hornets  espied  the  other  boys  and  flew  at 
them,  so  they  were  forced  to  retreat  precipitately  into  the 
tents. 

Hans  fell  down,  rolled  over,  roared,  screamed,  sprang 
up,  shot  out  of  the  glade,  plunged  toward  the  brook  and 
hurled  himself  into  the  water  with  a  despairing  wail. 

Peering  from  the  tents,  the  boys  saw  him  make  frantic 
haste  to  get  his  head  under  the  water,  which  he  kicked  up 
about  him  in  a  cloud.  The  brook  was  shallow,  but  Hans 
was  able  to  get  part  of  his  person  beneath  the  surface,  and 
the  splashing  water  soon  drove  off  the  hornets. 

"Waal,  gol  darned  if  that  don't  remind  me  of  old  times 
on  the  farm !"  laughed  Ephraim  Gallup.  "I've  skedaddled 


A  Hot  Time  in  Camp.  141 

more'n  once  with  a  hull  nest  of  white-tail  hornets  tearin' 
along  arter  me." 

"Look  at  Hans !"  said  Hodge.  "He's  holding  his  head 
under  now.  Didn't  suppose  he  could  hold  his  breath  so 
long." 

"He  doesn't  seem  to  be  kicking  so  hard,"  observed 
Bruce.  "He's  almost  stopped." 

"Boys,"  shouted  Frank,  "he's  drowning !" 

Out  of  the  tent  he  leaped  and  away  he  dashed  to  the 
brook.  He  clutched  the  Dutch  lad  by  the  back  of  his  coat 
and  dragged  him  out  of  the  water.  The  unfortunate  fel- 
low was  gasping  and  strangling,  plainly  nearly  drowned, 
but  he  made  a  frantic  attempt  to  crawl  back  into  the  water. 

"Stop  it !"  cried  Frank.    "The  hornets  are  gone !" 

"Hey?"  gurgled  Hans. 

"They're  gone.    You're  all  right  now." 

"Oh,  yaw,  I  peen  all  right  now !"  snorted  Hans,  blowing 
water  from  his  mouth  and  nose.  "I  vos  stinged  py  more 
as  ninedeen  hundret  und  sefendeen  blaces!  Oh,  yaw.  I 
vus  all  righd!  Who  vos  I  laughin'  ad?"  he  snarled  glar- 
ing at  Ephraim,  who  could  not  repress  his  chuckles. 
"Maype  you  seen  a  shoke  somevere,  don'd  id  ?  You  don'd 
knew  so  much  as  I  did  vourteen  years  ago!  You  vos  a 
plooming  idiot !  Dot's  vot's  der  madder  mit  me !" 

Hans  was  a  sight.  His  face  and  hands  were  beginning 
to  swell,  and  it  was  plain  that  the  hornets  had  been  merci- 
less in  their  attack  upon  him. 

"How  in  thunder  did  it  happen?"  asked  Ephraim,  by 
way  of  quieting  the  wrath  of  the  Dutch  lad. 

The  question  was  a  mistake,  as  the  Vermonter  quickly 
discovered. 

"Dot  feetpall  done  id!"  roared  Hans.  "Uf  id  hadn't 
peen  vor  dot  feetpall  I  vould  peen  all  righd !  Vere  vos  dot 
Parney  Mulloy?  I  vant  to  seen  heem  und  haf  refenge 
pefore  I  vos  dead.  Shown  me  to  dot  Parney  Mulloys  I" 


142  A  Hot  Time  in  Camp. 

Barney  came  out  of  the  woods,  with  the  football  under 
his  arm. 

"Bergorra  1    Oi've  got  it,"  he  cried. 

"Yaw !"  snorted  Hans,  sitting  up  and  struggling  to  his 
feet.  "So  haf  I !  I  haf  id  in  more  as  sefendeen  hundret 
blaces !  Oxcuse  me  vile  you  preak  my  neck !" 

Then  he  ran  at  Barney  as  fiercely  as  he  could  in  his 
water-soaked  and  exhausted  condition.  Barney  simply 
stepped  aside  and  let  the  raging  Dutch  lad  pass.  Hans 
was  not  able  to  stop,  although  he  made  a  desperate  attempt 
to  do  so  and  turn  round.  He  caught  one  of  his  toes  behind 
the  heel  of  his  other  foot,  and  seemed  to  bound  into  the 
air  as  he  tripped  himself  up. 

Hans  struck  fairly  in  the  midst  of  the  ashes  and  coals  of 
the  smoldering  camp  fire.  Brands,  ashes,  cinders,  coals, 
coffeepot  and  coffee  flew  in  all  directions. 

Over  and  over  the  Dutch  lad  rolled.  When  he  finally 
stopped  and  sat  up,  he  was  a  spectacle.  Ashes  and  cin- 
ders covered  his  face,  hands  and  clothing.  He  was  so  wet 
that  everything  he  had  touched  clung  to  him. 

Poor  Hans !  For  all  of  his  misfortunes,  it  was  not 
strange  that  his  companions  fairly  screamed  with  laughter. 
Hodge  and  Jack  Diamond,  who  seldom  laughed  at  any- 
thing, were  forced  to  laugh  at  this.  Frank  clung  to  his 
sides ;  Ephraim  pressed  his  hands  to  his  stomach,  doubled 
up  and  bellowed  with  laughter;  Bruce  dropped  down 
limply,  haw-hawing;  and  Barney  Mulloy  went  into  con- 
vulsions. 

Hans  sat  still  and  rubbed  some  of  the  dirt  and  ashes  out 
of  his  eyes.  That  is,  he  sat  still  for  some  moments,  and 
then,  as  some  live  coals  burned  through  the  seat  of  his 
trousers,  despite  their  wetness,  he  gave  a  squeal  and  shot 
up  into  the  air  as  if  fired  from  a  spring-gun,  clutching 
wildly  at  the  place  where  the  coals  had  done  their  work, 
and  yelling: 


A  Hot  Time  in  Camp.  145 

"More  hornets !    Took  um  avay !    Wow-wow  1" 

As  soon  as  his  feet  touched  the  ground,  he  nearly  twisted 
himself  out  of  shape  trying  to  look  beneath  his  coat-tails. 

Ephraim  Gallup  collapsed. 

"Haw !  haw !  haw !"  he  bellowed.  "B'gosh !  this  is  too 
much !  I  wish  I  was  to  hum  on  the  farm !  I  can't  stan' 
this !  Haw !  haw !  haw !  It  makes  me  sore  all  over  to  larf 
in  this  way !  I  won't  git  over  this  for  a  week !  Haw ! 
haw !  haw  t" 

"Oh,  yaw !"  snorted  Hans !  "dees  peen  der  funniest 
thing  you  nefer  seen  1  You  vos  a  plamed  idiot !  You  keep 
avay  mein  funerals  vrom !  Uf  you  come  to  dot,  I  vill  ged 
der  coffin  oudt  und  smash  you  in  der  nose !" 

Restraining  his  merriment  with  difficulty,  Frank  ap- 
proached the  unfortunate  lad,  saying: 

"Come,  Hans,  you  must  get  these  clothes  off  and  wash 
up,  so  we  can  see  how  badly  you  are  stung." 

"Keeb  avay  und  led  me  alone !"  squawked  Hans.  "I 
peen  goin'  to  die  shust  as  I  vos,  und  I  don'd  need  no  more 
hellup  apoud  dot  1" 

Then  he  lay  down  on  the  ground  and  groaned. 

Directed  by  Frank,  the  boys  removed  Hans'  clothing 
and  washed  the  dirt  and  ashes  off  him.  They  found  he 
was  stung  severely  about  the  face  and  neck. 

"What  have  we  for  that?"  asked  Merry.  "Something 
ought  to  be  done  right  away  to  take  the  poison  out,  and 
the  village  is  too  far  away  to  go  there  to  the  drug  store. 
Is  there  any  tobacco  in  the  crowd  ?" 

"Faith,  Oi  have  some  shmokin'  tobaccy,"  answered  Bar- 
ney. "It's  a  poipe  Oi  shmoke  whin  Oi  shmoke  at  all, 
at  all." 

"That  will  do,  but  it  must  be  chewed  in  the  mouth  to  fit 
it  for  application  to  these  swellings.  Who  will  volunteer 
to  the  sacrifice  ?" 


144  A  Hot  Time  in  Camp. 

"Gosh !  I'd  do  it,"  said  Ephraim,  "but  it  makes  me  so 
sick  I  can't  see  when  I  put  the  stuff  into  my  maouth." 

"It  must  be  done  right  away  to  stop  the  pain  of  these 
stings,"  said  Merry,  sharply." 

"Vill  id  stob  dot  pain?"  asked  Haas,  weakly,  between 
his  groans. 

"It  will  as  soon  as  it  draws  the  poison  out." 

"Vere  vos  der  tobacco?  I  peen  goin'  to  done  der  chaw- 
ing meinseluf .  Gif  id  to  me !" 

And  so,  wrapped  in  a  blanket,  the  Dutch  boy  did  the 
chewing,  and  the  tobacco  was  applied  and  bound  onto  the 
swelling  as  well  as  possible,  as  fast  as  it  was  prepared. 

After  a  while  Hans  stopped  chewing  and  began  to  groan 
worse  than  before. 

"Oh,  say!"  he  gasped,  "I  peen  seasick!  Id  don'd  make 
a  bit  of  tifferences  how  I  die  now  1" 

Poor  Hans ! 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

IMPS     OF     THE     FOREST. 

"Many  years  have  passed  since  I  strolled  by  the  river, 

Arm  in  arm,  with  sweetheart  Mary  by  my  side, 
It  was  there  I  tried  to  tell  her  that  I  loved  her, 

It  was  there  I  begged  of  her  to  be  my  bride. 
Long  years  have  passed  since  I  strolled  through  the  churchyard, 

She  is  sleeping  there,  my  angel  Mary  dear, 
I  loved  her,  but  she  thought  I  didn't  mean  it, 

Still  I'd  gire  my  future  were  she  only  here. 

"Oh,  the  moonlight's  fair  to-night  along  the  Wabash! 

From  the  fields  there  comes  the  breath  of  new-mown  hay, 
Through  the  sycamores  the  candle  lights  are  gleaming, 
On  the  banks  of  the  Wabash,  far  away." 

It  was  evening,  and  a  glorious  moon  was  flooding  Wild- 
flower  Dell  with  light.  The  perfume  of  roses  and  the 
sweet  scent  of  the  summer  woods  filled  the  air.  The  little 
brook  purled  along  its  bed,  glinting  like  changing  silver  in 
the  white  light. 

Frank  was  singing  a  popular  song,  and  his  musical  voice 
was  so  full  of  tenderness  and  feeling  that  the  eyes  of  more 
than  one  of  his  companions  became  misty.  There  was  one 
who  knew  of  whom  he  was  thinking  at  that  moment.  To 
Hodge,  Frank  had  confessed  that  he  longed  to  see  Elsie 
Bellwood  again.  Where  she  was  he  knew  not.  Capt. 
Bellwood  had  taken  her  away  to  sea  with  him,  and  it  was 
possible  she  might  never  come  back. 

Merry  accompanied  himself  on  the  guitar,  which  he 
played  expertly.  Finishing  the  song,  he  let  his  fingers 
wander  over  the  strings,  bringing  forth  soft,  sad  music. 

There  was  a  sob  behind  him,  and  he  looked  around  at  a 
figure  stretched  on  some  blankets. 


146  Imps  of  the  Forest. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Hans?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  nottink,  only  I  vas  vishing  I  hat  peen  on  der  panks 
of  dot  Vawbash  far  avay  pefore  I  efer  seen  dot  feetpall." 

This  answer  seemed  to  break  the  sad  spell  that  had  fallen 
on  the  boys,  and  they  laughed. 

Frank  put  aside  the  guitar,  saying : 

"I  am  getting  into  the  dumps.  Wish  something  would 
turn  up." 

From  a  distance  came  a  peculiar  whistle  that  trilled 
through  the  woods. 

"It's  Davis!"  exclaimed  Merry,  with  satisfaction. 
"Perhaps  something  is  going  to  turn  up." 

Then  he  answered  the  signal. 

A  short  time  later  a  lad  in  the  uniform  of  a  cadet  came 
into  the  glade. 

"Hello,  fellows  I"  he  cheerfully  called.  "All  up  at  this 
hour?  Why,  it's  late." 

"We  haven't  been  back  from  the  village  long,"  explained 
Frank,  "and  we  didn't  feel  like  turning  in  right  away,  as 
it  is  such  a  glorious  night." 

"It's  altogether  too  glorious!"  burst  from  the  cadet. 
""Confound  that  moon !  I'd  like  to  hang  something  over  it ! 
I  heard  the  singing,  and  I  knew  it  was  your  voice,  Mr. 
Merriwell.  I  haven't  forgotten  the  sound  of  that  voice 
since  the  days  when  I  was  your  fag." 

"You  were  my  fag  once  on  a  time,  weren't  you?" 
laughed  Frank.  "I  believe  I  took  you  away  from  Bas- 
comb,  the  bully." 

"-For  which  I  was  sincerely  thankful.  I  was  rather  soft 
in  those  days,  and  Bascomb  nearly  frightened  me  to  death." 

"And  I  nearly  frightened  him  to  death.  In  fact,  I  be- 
lieve he  would  have  drowned  himself  if  you  hadn't  proved 
your  heroism  by  pulling  him  out  of  the  river  at  the  risk 
of  your  own  life." 


Imps  of  the  Forest.  147 

"The  only  Bascomb  we  have  in  school  now  is  Somers," 
said  Davis.  "He  tries  to  make  everybody  bow  down  at  his 
feet,  but  he  can't  force  all  of  us  to  do  it.  We  are  going 
to  give  one  of  his  friends  a  warm  little  time  this  evening." 

"Who  is  going  to  do  so  ?" 

"The  Jolly  Dogs  of  Fardale.  I  believe  you  belonged  to 
the  order  when  you  were  in  the  academy." 

"I  should  say  so!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "Many  are  the 
rackets  we  have  had  in  the  old  boathouse." 

"There  will  be  a  little  racket  there  to-night.  Will  you 
come  along  with  your  friends?  I  have  been  sent  here  to 
invite  you." 

"Will  I !"  cried  Frank,  in  delight.    "I  should  guess  yes  1" 

"And  the  others?" 

"Who  wants  to  go?"  asked  Merry. 

"Oxcuse  me,"  came  from  Hans.  "I  don'd  peen  in  gon- 
dition  to  done  dot.  I  vould  peen  delighted,  vor  I  remem- 
ber der  dime  I  sunged  'Bui  For  Der  Shore'  dot  poathouse 
in.  Dot  peen  a  varm  efenin',  or  you  vos  a  liar.  I  vill  staid 
here  und  took  care  der  camp  of." 

All  the  rest  of  the  boys  expressed  a  willingness  to  ac- 
company Davis. 

"I  think  we'll  be  able  to  provide  disguises  for  you  all," 
said  Fred.  "We  have  a  secret  place  for  stowing  away  our 
rigs  and  implements.  We  have  lots  more  stuff  than  we 
used  to  own." 

"But  I  don't  see  how  you  can  get  out  of  camp  such  a 
night  as  this,"  said  Hodge. 

"Oh,  it  happens  that  the  right  men  are  on  guard  duty," 
laughed  Davis.  "Everything  will  be  dead  quiet  in  camp 
to-night,  so  there  is  very  little  danger  of  tent  inspection." 

"But  you  are  taking  many  chances." 

"That's  all  right.    There  are  enough  of  us  in  this,  SO 


148  Imps  of  the  Forest. 

the  faculty  will  not  dare  turn  anybody  out  if  we  are  de- 
tected. The  Jolly  Dogs  have  some  power  in  the  academy." 

"Does  Somers  belong  to  the  Jolly  Dogs  ?"  asked  Frank. 

"I  should  say  not!  Why,  that  fellow  actually  got 
through  his  plebe  year  without  being  hazed.  How  such  a 
chap  could  do  that  is  a  wonder  to  everybody  now,  but  he 
did.  Not  being  hazed  by  the  Dogs,  of  course  he  could  not 
be  initiated.  He  knows  there  is  such  an  organization,  but 
he  has  said  that  he  was  against  it.  Now  that  a  friend  of 
his  from  his  town,  a  fellow  by  the  name  of  Beebe  Ross,  has 
entered  the  academy,  Somers  has  given  out  that  he  will 
break  up  the  Jolly  Dogs  if  they  haze  Ross.  For  that  rea- 
son we  are  going  to  haze  Ross.  If  Mr.  Somers  tries  to 
break  us  up,  he'll  discover  he  has  undertaken  a  big  job." 

"Well,  we  are  ready  to  go,"  said  Frank. 

"It  isn't  any  use  to  hurry,"  explained  Davis.  "I  was 
sent  out  to  invite  you,  while  the  boys  are  getting  ready. 
They'll  have  to  slip  out  of  camp  one  at  a  time,  and  it  will 
take  an  hour  for  them  to  get  outside.  Let's  have  some 
music  and  singing  before  we  start." 

Of  course,  the  boys  were  willing  and  ready  to  do  any- 
thing to  entertain  and  please  Davis.  Merriwell  tuned  up 
the  guitar  again,  and  sang  a  rollicking  college  song,  in 
which  all  joined,  except  Davis  and  Dunnerwust. 

Davis  applauded. 

"That's  fine !"  he  cried.    "Give  us  another,  boys !" 

So  they  sang  another,  and  yet  another.  The  time 
slipped  away  faster  than  they  dreamed. 

"What  was  that  song  you  were  singing  as  I  approached 
the  camp  ?"  asked  Fred  of  Merry.  "Away  in  the  woods  I 
thought  it  the  most  beautiful  thing  I  ever  heard." 

"It  is  a  beautiful  song,"  said  Frank.  "The  title  is,  'On 
the  Banks  of  the  Wabash.'  " 

"The  Wabash !"  exclaimed  Davis.    "A  beautiful  river ! 


Imps  of  the  Forest.  149 

I  am  from  Indiana,  you  know,  and  my  home  is  not  far 
from  the  Wabash.    I  have  seen  it  a  hundred  times.    Sing 
the  song,  Mr.  Merriwell  I" 
So  Frank  sang : 

"Round  my  Indiana  homestead  wave  the  cornfields, 

In  the  distance  loom  the  woodlands  clear  and  cool, 
Oftentimes  my  thoughts  revert  to  scenes  of  childhood, 

Where  I  first  received  my  lessons — nature's  school; 
But  one  thing  is  missing  in  the  picture, 

Without  her  face  it  seems  so  incomplete, 
I  long  to  see  my  mother  in  the  doorway, 

As  she  stood  years  ago  her  boy  to  greet. 

"Oh,  the  moonlight's  fair  to-night  along  the  Wabash ! 

From  the  fields  there  comes  the  breath  of  new-mown  hay, 
Through  the  sycamores  the  candle  lights  are  gleaming, 
On  the  banks  of  the  Wabash,  far  away." 

Davis  was  affected  to  tears,  for  the  song  brought  him 
thoughts  of  his  mother  at  home.  He  was  her  only  boy, 
and  it  was  with  untold  misgivings  she  had  permitted  him 
to  leave  her  side  to  attend  school. 

When  the  song  was  finished  the  boys  sat  there  in  silence, 
some  of  them  gazing  up  at  the  white  face  of  the  moon, 
some  staring  down  at  the  ground. 

The  echoes  died  out  in  the  woods,  from  which  came  the 
soft  perfume  of  the  summer  night.  The  wold  rises  in  the 
Dell  seemed  motionless  and  listening.  The  insects  of  the 
forest  were  silent.  A  great  hush  was  over  all. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  slight  rustling  sound.  It  was  a 
breath  in  the  treetops.  The  leaves  seemed  whispering  to 
each  other  as  if  telling  some  strange  secret. 

There  was  a  rustling  not  of  the  leaves.  First  it  came 
from  one  side  of  the  Dell  and  then  from  another ;  then  it 
was  heard  on  every  side. 

Out  from  the  dark  shadows  beneath  the  trees  glided  an 
uncanny  figure.  At  first  it  looked  like  a  huge  goat  walk- 


i$o  Imps  of  the  Forest. 

ing  on  its  hind  legs.  It  had  a  flute  made  of  reeds,  but  it 
did  net  play.  There  were  horns  on  its  head. 

Frank  Merriwell  rubbed  his  eyes  and  stared. 

"Ye  gods !"  he  gasped.    "What  is  this  ?" 

"It's  Pan  himself!"  whispered  Diamond.  "You  have 
called  him  from  the  forest  by  your  playing  and  singing." 

But  Pan  was  not  alone.  With  almost  noiseless  tread, 
other  fantastic  figures  glided  into  the  glade.  There  were 
gnomes,  monsters,  imps  and  all  sorts  of  queer  creatures. 
Most  prominent  among  them  was  Mephistopheles,  in  flam- 
ing scarlet,  carrying  a  huge  barbed  fork. 

"Jeeroosalum !"  gurgled  Ephraim  Gallup.  "It's  the  Old 
Nick  hisself ,  and  all  his  imps !" 

"Sure  as  fate!"  grunted  Bruce  Browning,  trying  to 
cover  the  fact  that  he  was  startled.  "We  are  taken !" 

The  fiend  in  scarlet  waved  his  hand,  and  then,  with  a 
wild  shout,  all  the  imps  rushed  forward  and  surrounded 
Frank  Merriwell  and  his  friends. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

OUT  FOR  SPORT. 

"Oxcuse  me !"  gasped  Hans  Dunnerwust.  "I  vasn't  ad 
home!" 

Then  he  hastily  pulled  a  blanket  over  his  head. 

The  imps  of  the  forest  stopped  in  a  circle  and  each  one 
pointed  at  Merriwell  or  one  of  his  friends.  In  a  hoarse, 
croaking  chorus,  they  cried : 

"We  have  come  for  you !" 

"Jest  tell  them  that  you  saw  me,  and  express  my  re- 
grets," gurgled  Ephraim  Gallup.  "Gol  darned  if  I  don't 
wish  I  was  to  hum  on  the  farm  \" 

Frank  was  on  his  feet.    He  made  a  profound  bow. 

"As  long  as  you  have  come,  you  may  as  well  make  your- 
selves at  home,"  he  said. 

"Mr.  Merriwell  and  gentlemen  of  the  Yale  camp,"  said 
Fred  Davis,  "these  are  the  Jolly  Dogs  of  Fardale." 

"Hey  ?"  exclaimed  Gallup,  in  astonishment.  "You  don't 

mean  to  say  that Why,  gol  darn  it !  so  they  be !  Ha ! 

haw !  Really  gave  me  a  jump  at  fust !  Ha !  haw !" 

Hans  poked  his  head  out  from  beneath  the  blanket,  in- 
quiring in  a  stage  whisper : 

"Vos  they  disappeared  alretty  yet  ?" 

When  he  saw  they  had  not,  he  ducked  back  again  in  a 
hurry. 

Frank  made  a  peculiar  sign,  saying  a  strange  word, 
whereupon  the  imps  all  crossed  their  arms  on  the  breast 
and  bowed  low,  saying  in  chorus : 

"We  greet  you,  brother." 

Hodge  sprang  to  his  feet,  made  the  same  sign,  and  re- 
peated the  word. 

"We  greet  you,  brother,"  bowed  the  imps. 


152  Out  for  Sport. 

"Darn  my  turnips  ef  I  ain't  in  this !"  cried  Ephraim.  "I 
was  run  through  the  mill  when  I  went  to  the  academy." 

Then  he  gave  the  sign,  said  the  word,  and  was  saluted. 

"Oxcuse  me,"  said  Hans,  again  poking  his  head  from  be- 
neath the  blanket.  "I  misundertook  yourselufs  vor  some- 
pody  elses.  I  don'd  peen  britty  veil." 

"We  are  outsiders,"  said  Diamond,  as  he  and  Browning 
stood  up ;  "but  we  have  heard  of  the  Jolly  Dogs,  and  it  is 
a  delight  to  meet  you,  although  you  did  give  us  a  start  by 
the  manner  of  your  appearance." 

"Ha !  ha !  ha 1"  laughed  the  strange  band,  in  a  sharp  and 
sudden  chorus,  so  sharp  and  so  sudden  that  Jack  started 
despite  himself. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Davis,  "this  is  the  Royal  Fiend.  The 
Jolly  Dogs  do  his  bidding." 

Mephisto  bowed  low,  then  motioned  to  his  followers, 
who  joined  hands  and  executed  a  wild  dance  about  the 
Dell,  with  Merry  and  his  friends  in  the  center  of  the  ring. 

It  was  a  grotesque  spectacle  that  the  moonlight  re- 
vealed. It  really  seemed  that  the  imps  of  the  forest  had 
surrounded  and  made  captives  of  the  campers. 

All  at  once  they  began  to  sing : 

"We  are  the  Jolly  Dogs— the  Jolly  Dogs, 

Jolly,  jolly,  jolly! 
We  are  a  band  of  imps — a  band  of  imps, 

Jolly,  jolly,  jolly! 
With  us  Old  Folly  jogs— Old  Folly  jogs, 

Folly,  folly,  folly! 
But  Folly  never  limps — he  neTer  limps. 

"So  sing  we  all  right  merrily, 

We're  gay  and  free — gay  and  free; 
We  greet  our  friends  so  cheerily, 
As  you  can  see — you  can  see." 

The  finish  of  the  dance  was  wilder  and  more  grotesque 
than  its  beginning.  The  rompers  went  into  all  sorts  of 


Out  for  Sport.  153 

contortions,  cutting  strange  figures  in  the  air  with  their 
feet  and  hands,  bending  backward,  sideways,  leaping  into 
the  air,  pounding  the  ground  with  their  feet,  ending  by 
breaking  and  turning  handsprings,  cartwheels  and  somer- 
saults. 

Then,  at  a  cry  from  the  Royal  Fiend,  they  came  up  all 
standing  and  attentive. 

"Bravo !"  cried  Frank  Merriwell,  clapping  his  hands. 

The  others  who  had  witnessed  this  strange  spectacle  ap- 
plauded. Frank  turned  to  say  something  to  Fred  Davis, 
but,  to  his  surprise,  found  Fred  had  disappeared. 

"You  are  now  at  our  mercy,"  said  the  Royal  Fiend, 
with  a  flourish  of  his  fork  and  a  jab  at  Ephraim,  who 
dodged  and  uttered  a  gasp  of  alarm.  "We  can  feed  you  to 
the  demons  of  darkness,  or  we  can  spare  you.  If  one  of 
you  is  tired  of  life,  let  him  speak  the  word  and  he  shall  be 
frozen  to  death  over  a  cold  fire." 

No  one  spoke. 

"That  is  good,"  said  the  Fiend,  in  deep  tones,  which 
plainly  were  assumed.  "If  you  are  prepared  to  witness  and 
enjoy  the  horrible  spectacle  of  a  human  being  in  the  throes 
of  dissolution  or  some  other  old  thing,  all  you  have  to  do  is 
say  so." 

"So  1"  cried  Frank  Merriwell,  quickly.  The  others  took 
their  cue  from  him  and  said,  "So." 

"It  is  well,"  bowed  the  Royal  Fiend.  "But  you  must 
swear  never  to  reveal  what  you  behold  this  night — you 
must  swear  it  on  penalty  of  having  every  hair  on  your  head 
driven  in  out  of  sight  with  a  ten-pound  hammer  made  of 
swans'-down.  Do  you  swear?" 

"We  swear,"  said  Frank,  and  the  others  repeated. 

"Ha !  ha !"  laughed  the  Fiend. 

"Ho !  ho !"  laughed  the  imps. 

"Prepare  to  follow,"  commanded  the  leader  of  the  Jolly 
Dogs. 


154  Out  for  Sport. 

Through  the  woods  the  boys  from  the  Yale  camp  were 
escorted  by  the  hilarious,  dancing  imps.  They  came  out 
and  crossed  the  field,  and  Frank  knew  from  the  course  they 
were  taking  that  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  old  boat- 
house  where  so  many  hazings  had  taken  place. 

They  reached  the  main  road  that  led  down  to  the  acad- 
emy. At  a  distance,  amid  the  tall  trees,  the  buildings 
could  be  seen,  and  out  on  the  open  plain,  distinctly  shown 
by  the  clear  moonlight,  were  the  white  tents  of  the  en- 
camped cadets. 

As  the  night  roisterers  reached  the  highway  and  paused 
to  look  down  upon  the  camp,  they  distinctly  heard  the  cry 
repeated  from  sentry  to  sentry: 

"Twelve  o'clock,  and  all  is  well." 

It  went  the  rounds  of  the  camp. 

"Ha !  ha !"  laughed  the  Royal  Fiend,  in  derision. 

"Ho !  ho !"  laughed  his  followers,  in  soft  mockery. 

"It  seems  like  old  times,  b'gosh!"  muttered  Ephraini 
Gallup,  in  Frank's  ear. 

"That's  what !"  nodded  Merry.  "I've  had  the  greatest 
sport  of  my  life  here,  and  now " 

"Times  seem  to  be  ruther  lively  sence  yeou  struck  here 
this  time,"  grinned  the  boy  from  Vermont. 

"Yes,  rather  lively,"  admitted  Merry. 

They  slipped  across  the  road  and  struck  into  the  fields 
beyond. 

Little  did  they  dream  that  they  were  watched  I  Little 
did  they  suspect  what  eyes  were  on  them ! 

Behind  some  rocks  near  the  road,  lying  flat  on  the 
ground,  were  two  lads  who  had  at  one  time  been  cadets  at 
the  academy. 

They  were  Rupert  Reynolds  and  Wat  Snell. 

When  the  last  of  the  Jolly  Dogs  and  the  lads  from  the 
Yale  camp  had  entered  the  field  beyond  the  road,  Reynolds 
ventured  to  lift  his  head  and  gasp: 


Out  for  Sport.  155 

"Well,  hang  me !" 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  something  was  up !"  hissed  Snell,  tri- 
umphantly. "I  haven't  been  playing  the  spy  these  last 
two  days  for  nothing.  I  knew  the  cadets  had  a  racket  on 
for  to-night." 

"You  beat  all  in  finding  out  about  other  folks'  business," 
admitted  Reynolds.  "Your  eyes  and  ears  seem  to  see  and 
hear  everything  that's  not  intended  for  them." 

"Oh,  I  find  out  a  few  things,"  said  Snell,  proudly.  "I'm 
rather  rapid  in  that  line.  Did  you  see  who  was  with  those 
chaps  in  disguise?" 

"Sure." 

"Merriwell  and  his  gang." 

"Yes." 

"They  were  not  prisoners,  either." 

"Of  course  not.  Merriwell  belonged  to  the  Dogs  when 
he  was  here  at  the  academy." 

"They  are  going  to  the  boathouse." 

"Right.  They  are  bent  on  a  high  old  time.  Now,  look 
here !  I've  got  an  idea !  I  believe  they  are  going  to  haze 
somebody,  and,  if  that  is  the  case,  I  know  who  that  some- 
body is." 

"Couldn't  haze  anybody  to-night.  Couldn't  get  a  fellow 
out  of  camp." 

"How  did  they  get  out  of  camp  themselves  ?  The  moon 
was  up  at  nine,  and  they  must  have  left  after  taps.  It's 
plain  enough  the  sentinels  closed  their  eyes.  If  those  fel- 
lows were  determined  to  haze  a  chap  they  would  get  him 
out  of  camp  if  they  were  forced  to  chloroform  him  and 
carry  him  out  while  he  was  senseless.  That  is,  they  would 
do  it  if  they  are  anything  like  the  Jolly  Dogs  of  the  old 
days." 

"I  believe  you  belonged  to  them  once,"  said  Snell. 

"I  did." 


156  Out  for  Sport. 

"But  they  turned  you  out,  didn't  they?"  asked  Wat,  with 
a  chuckle. 

"It  was  all  a  mistake,"  declared  Rupert.  "They  thought 
I  blowed  on  them,  and  so  I  was  dropped." 

"Of  course  you  were  innocent?" 

"Of  course,  and  I  have  hated  the  Jolly  Dogs  of  Fardale 
ever  since.  The  sight  of  them  just  now  made  my  blood 
boil,  although  there  may  not  be  one  of  the  old  members 
belonging.  Merriwell  and  his  gang  are  with  them,  just 
the  same,  and  that  is  enough." 

"You  do  not  like  Frank  Merriwell  any  more  than  I  do, 
it  seems." 

"Say,  Snell,  I  hate  that  fellow— I  can't  tell  how  I  hate 
him.  I'm  no  angel,  I  admit  that,  but  it  seems  that  Merri- 
well has  been  the  cause  of  showing  up  my  worst  side  to  the 
public  generally.  I  don't  suppose  I  am  any  worse  than 
two-thirds  of  the  fellows  who  go  to  school  down  there,  but 
when  I  was  a  cadet,  every  time  I  did  a  thing  that  was  not 
exactly  according  to  the  rules  and  requirements  of  the 
academy  it  was  Merriwell  who  exposed  me.  I  hated  him 
then ;  but,  since  coming  to  Fardale  this  time,  I  have  learned 
to  hate  him  ten  times  as  much.  He  has  humiliated  me  in 
such  a  manner  that  I  have  thought  I  could  kill  him  with 
satisfaction.  But  I  don't  want  to  kill  him ;  I  want  to  hum- 
ble him  in  the  dust  as  he  has  humbled  me!  And  I 
will,  too!" 

"That's  the  stuff !"  nodded  Wat,  well  satisfied.  "I  don't 
like  that  chap  any  more  than  you  do.  He  has  done  several 
things  to  me.  But  what  I  can't  understand  is  why  every 
time  I  aim  a  blow  at  him  it  seems  to  rebound  and  strike  me 
in  some  way." 

"You  have  a  much  better  opportunity  now  to  do  him  a 
dirty  turn." 

"In  what  way  ?" 


Out  for  Sport.  157 

"A  short  time  ago  I  told  you  I  believed  I  knew  the  chap 
the  Jolly  Dogs  are  going  to  haze.  You  remember  it  ?" 

"Yes.    What  fellow  did  you  mean  ?" 

"A  fellow  by  the  name  of  Ross.  A  plebe,  but  a  friend 
of  Somers." 

"WhoisSomers?" 

"He's  a  cadet-corporal,  and  he  doesn't  like  Merriwell. 
He  was  popular  before  Merriwell  showed  up,  but  he  is 
tired  of  the  manner  in  which  the  cadets  hang  round  Merri- 
well whenever  the  fellow  appears  at  the  academy.  All  he 
is  waiting  for  is  an  opportunity  to  get  in  on  Merriwell." 

"Well." 

"He  will  give  a  load  of  rhino  to  catch  Merriwell  and  his 
gang  with  the  Jolly  Dogs  who  were  hazing  a  plebe.  It 
would  be  a  crusher  for  Merriwell,  as  he  would  be  debarred 
from  the  academy  and  the  grounds." 

"That's  right." 

"Then  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  find  a  way  to  let  Cadet 
Corp.  Somers  know  what  is  going  on.  We  must  get  word 
directly  to  him." 

"How  can  it  be  done?" 

Snell  was  not  very  resourceful. 

"A  fake  telegram  is  just  the  thing.  It  will  go!  I  have 
some  blanks  and  envelopes  in  my  pocket.  Swiped  them 
from  the  office  here.  Always  carry  a  fountain  pen.  We'll 
have  to  find  a  place  to  write.  You  burn  matches,  while  ^ 
write  a  message  to  Somers.  Then  we  will  take  it  down  to 
the  camp  and  swear  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  so  it 
will  be  delivered  to  him  at  once.  Great  scheme !" 

"Great  scheme !"  echoed  Snell,  delightedly. 

They  proceeded  to  carry  it  out. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  END  OF  A  HAZING* 

"Let  us  all  unite  in  love, 
While  Old  Gunn's  asleep  above; 
Let  us  all  unite  in  love, 
And  give  these  plebes  a  gentle  shove. 

*'In  the  neck,  in  the  neck  they  will  get  it, 
In  the  neck,  in  the  neck,  where  it  fits; 
If  you  laugh  when  they  squeal,  you  will  hit  it, 
For  they'll  get  it  in  the  neck,  where  it  fits." 

It  was  the  old  hazing  song  of  the  Jolly  Dogs,  and  it  made 
the  boathouse  ring.  The  entire  band,  including  Frank 
and  his  friends,  now  in  disguise  like  the  others,  was  gath- 
ered there. 

The  interior  of  the  boathouse  had  been  altered  somewhat 
since  Merriwell's  days  at  the  academy.  Improvements 
had  been  made,  among  which  was  the  enlargement  of  the 
fireplace,  so  that  it  was  now  a  huge  affair,  with  a  grate 
over  which  a  man  might  be  held  without  difficulty. 

It  seemed  that  the  cadets  were  filled  with  joy  at  the  op- 
portunity to  throw  off  the  restrictions  of  their  life  at  the 
school  and  hilarious  with  the  satisfaction  of  being  able  to 
do  exactly  as  they  pleased.  They  continued  to  perform  all 
sorts  of  wild  capers. 

In  a  small,  dark  closet  of  the  boathouse  the  three  plebes 
to  be  hazed  were  confined.  They  could  hear  the  wild 
chorus  of  the  Jolly  Dogs,  and  it  was  quite  certain  they 
trembled  in  anticipation  of  what  they  must  go  through. 

Near  the  walls  of  the  room  containing  the  fireplace  ran 
a  single  line  of  benches.  As  yet  no  fire  had  been  built. 


The  End  of  a  Hazing.  159 

The  room  was  lighted  by  small  electric  lights,  causing 
Frank  to  wonder  how  the  current  was  supplied. 

After  the  song,  the  Royal  Fiend  in  scarlet  stepped  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  room,  lifted  his  hand,  and  instantly 
all  were  silent,  as  if  suddenly  stricken  dumb.  The  sudden 
change  from  the  riotous  tumult  of  a  moment  before  to  such 
silence  was  more  startling  than  a  heavy  clap  of  thunder 
could  have  been. 

Not  a  word  did  the  scarlet  leader  say,  but  he  gave  his 
long  arms  a  sweep  and  pointed  to  the  benches. 

Immediately  the  disguised  hazers  began  to  retreat  to  the 
benches  and  sit  down.  Frank  and  his  friends  did  the  same. 

When  all  were  seated,  they  produced  a  strange  and  un- 
canny spectacle.  Of  a  sudden,  they  looked  like  anything 
but  a  jolly  band.  Even  a  clown  among  them  seems  ghostly 
and  repulsive. 

The  Royal  Fiend  seemed  satisfied. 

"The  hour  of  doom  has  arrived,"  he  said,  in  the  same 
deep  tones  which  Frank  knew  must  be  assumed.  "The 
lambs  shall  be  led  forth  to  the  slaughter." 

Again  he  lifted  his  hands,  and  at  the  sign  two  assistants, 
dressed  just  alike,  wearing  half-masks  and  high,  pointed 
caps,  with  long  ears  like  those  of  a  donkey,  came  forward 
and  stood  on  either  side  of  the  leader. 

Then  the  Fiend  spoke  again : 

"Let  the  Power  of  Darkness  descend." 

Immediately  there  was  a  strange  humming  sound  that 
seemed  to  come  from  overhead,  and  the  lights  grew  dim. 
Dimmer  and  dimmer  became  the  lights,  while  the  hum- 
ming, which  seemed  like  something  rushing  through  the 
air,  continued.  The  Royal  Fiend  and  his  assistants  re- 
mained motionless  as  darkness  closed  about  them.  At 
length  it  was  entirely  dark,  and  the  humming  ceased. 

Hodge  was  at  Merriwell's  side. 


160  The  End  of  a  Hazing. 

"Know  what  that  humming  was,  old  man  ?"  he  asked,  in 
a  whisper. 

"Yes,"  answered  Merry.  "It  was  the  dimmer  used  on 
the  lights  to  cause  them  to  go  out  slowly." 

"Silence !" 

The  voice  of  the  Royal  Fiend  came  through  the  dark- 
ness. 

"Bring  forth  the  first  victim !" 

There  was  a  sound  of  soft  footfalls,  the  squeak  of  a 
swinging  door,  a  sudden  cry,  and  then  it  was  plain  that  a 
person  was  dragged  into  the  room. 

"Ouch!    Don't!    You  hurt!" 

An  unsteady  voice  uttered  the  words.  Evidently  the 
nerves  of  the  victim  were  rather  unsteady. 

All  at  once,  through  the  room  rang  a  shriek  so  wild  and 
uncanny  that  it  was  quite  enough  to  cause  the  hair  to  rise 
on  anybody's  head.  There  was  an  unearthly  sound 
about  it. 

Then  came  the  voice  of  the  Royal  Fiend ! 

"Wretched  plebe,  behold  the  last  victim — the  last  wretch 
who  stood  in  your  place !" 

Again  the  shriek,  and  then  there  was  a  rattling  sound  as 
of  bones,  followed  by  a  sudden  glow  of  light  that  advanced 
across  the  room.  In  the  midst  of  that  light  a  human  skele- 
ton seemed  to  stalk,  the  bones  rattling  at  every  step. 

The  light  was  sufficient  to  show  the  plebe,  still  held  by 
the  Fiend's  assistants,  and  shaking  like  one  with  the  ague. 

Near  Frank  Merriwell,  Ephraim  Gallup's  teeth  began  to 
chatter. 

"Gug-gug-gol  darned  ef  I  don't  wish  I  was  to  hum  on 
the  fuf-fuf-fuf-farm !"  he  breathed. 

The  plebe  cowered  as  the  skeleton  came  nearer.  All  at 
once  the  skeleton  lifted  one  hand  and  pointed  a  finger  at 
the  plebe.  A  hollow  voice  seemed  to  issue  from  those  flesh- 
less  jaws : 


The  End  of  a  Hazing.  161 

"As  I  am,  so  ye  shall  be!" 

Click ! — the  ghostly  thing  vanished,  and  the  room  was 
again  plunged  in  darkness. 

"That  trick  was  well  done,"  thought  Frank. 

He  was  not  given  much  time  to  wonder  how  it  was  done. 
There  was  a  sudden  hiss  in  the  air  and  another  glare  of 
light. 

Down  through  the  air  came  a  squirming  serpent  of  fire, 
apparently  with  its  eyes  fastened  on  the  helpless  plebe. 
The  plebe  cowered  and  gasped.  With  another  hiss  the 
serpent  shot  at  him,  wound  itself  about  his  body,  and 
seemed  to  twitch  him  up  into  the  air,  so  that  he  was  lifted 
five  feet  above  the  floor  and  swung  there. 

The  plebe  gave  a  howl  of  fear  and  tore  at  the  fiery  thing. 
He  succeeded  in  tearing  it  off,  and  it  disappeared  in  a  mo- 
ment, but  he  still  remained  suspended  in  the  darkness, 
swinging  to  and  fro. 

In  fact,  it  was  not  the  fiery  serpent  that  had  snatched  him 
up.  A  belt  had  been  fastened  about  his  waist,  and  into  that 
belt  a  hook  of  iron  was  attached,  so  that  the  plebe  had  been 
lifted  by  the  aid  of  a  pulley  and  tackle. 

"Darn  my  skin  1"  gasped  Ephraim  Gallup.  "They  never 
used  to  do  such  things  as  this  when  I  was  here !  Skiller- 
tons  and  snakes  of  fire  and  them  things  is  pritty  hot  stuff !" 

"Silence!"  came  the  hoarse  voice  of  the  Royal  Fiend. 
"The  wretched  plebe  is  now  suspended  above  the  bottom- 
less pit.  If  the  thread  that  holds  him  should  break,  he'd 
never  stop  falling." 

Snap ! — the  rope  parted. 

There  was  a  shriek  as  the  plebe  shot  downward.  Then 
followed  a  splash,  as  if  he  had  struck  in  water. 

All  at  once  the  lights  came  on  with  their  full  glare. 

It  was  seen  that  a  great  trapdoor  in  the  floor  had  been 
lifted  up,  so  that  when  the  suspended  plebe  fell,  he  dropped 
directly  into  a  tank  of  icy  water. 


1 62  The  End  of  a  Hazing. 

With  a  boat  hook  the  assistants  of  the  Royal  Fiend 
dragged  the  plebe  from  the  tank.  When  they  pulled  him 
out  and  closed  the  door,  the  poor  fellow  looked  like  a 
drowned  rat.  He  was  limp  and  almost  senseless. 

Then  the  Jolly  Dogs  gathered  about  him,  teasing  and 
pestering  him  in  various  ways. 

"Are  you  cold  ?"  snarled  the  Royal  Fiend,  glaring  at  the 
unhappy  victim. 

"Y-y-y-yes,"  stammered  the  poor  chap,  his  teeth  chat- 
tering, "awful  cuc-cuc-cold !" 

"Start  the  fire !"  roared  the  Scarlet  One.  "We'll  have  to 
warm  him  up.  Can't  anybody  be  cold  around  where  we 
are.  Start  up  the  fire !" 

There  was  something  about  this  order  that  made  the 
teeth  of  the  plebe  chatter  more  than  ever. 

Then  two  of  the  Jolly  Dogs  were  heard  speaking  to- 
gether in  low  tones.  One  of  them  said  : 

"I  don't  believe  in  this  part  of  the  business.  You  re- 
member the  poor  chap  we  burned  so  severely  that  he  died 
after  he  went  home?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  remember  him,"  nodded  the  other.  "That 
was  a  very  sad  affair.  They  say  he  died  in  awful  agony. 
But  this  chap  is  wet  enough,  so  there  is  not  much  danger 
that  his  clothes  will  take  fire.  If  they  do,  we  can  drop  him 
in  the  tank  again." 

"But  he  is  bound  to  be  burned  more  or  less." 

"Of  course.  The  Royal  Fiend  will  not  think  of  letting 
him  off  without  burning  him  so  he  will  remember  this 
jolly  little  time  this  evening." 

"I  think  the  Royal  Fiend  carries  the  thing  too  far." 

Strangely  enough,  although  the  frightened  plebe  heard 
this  plainly,  and  although  the  Royal  Fiend  had  seemed  to 
hear  everything  spoken  previously,  the  latter  did  not  ap- 
pear to  hear  this  conversation. 

The  knees  of  the  poor  plebe  began  to  buckle  beneath  his 


The  End  of  a  Hazing.  163 

weight.  Why,  these  hideously  disguised  chaps  were  really 
young  devils !  This  was  not  fun ;  it  was  brutality.  It  was 
carrying  the  thing  too  far. 

In  the  grate  was  piled  a  lot  of  oil-saturated  wood  and 
shavings.  A  match  applied  to  the  shavings  caused  a  flare 
of  fire  to  shoot  upward. 

Snap! — the  lights  were  turned  off,  and  the  room  was 
lighted  by  the  fire,  which  flared  and  roared. 

Beebe  Ross,  the  unfortunate  plebe,  shrank  back  before 
this  hot  blaze.  He  looked  around,  as  if  longing  to  make 
an  attempt  to  break  away. 

Surely  it  would  be  impossible  to  be  held  very  near  that 
blaze  without  being  burned. 

"Ah-ha !"  snarled  the  fiend  in  scarlet,  with  apparent  sat- 
isfaction. "A  ruddy  blaze — a  royal  blaze  !  That's  the  sort 
of  a  fire  to  roast  a  half-baked  plebe  1  Soon,  ye  Jolly  Dogs, 
your  nostrils  shall  be  filled  with  the  delightful  odor  of 
cooking  meat." 

The  plebe  grew  sick.  Were  these  the  Jolly  Dogs  of 
Fardale  ?  or  had  he  fallen  into  the  clutches  of  a  gang  of 
real  fiends  from  the  infernal  regions? 

Suddenly  a  weak  feeling  of  rage  assailed  him.  He  beat 
the  air  with  his  fists,  and  gurgled : 

"You  shall  suffer  for  this  outrage !  I  want  you  to  un- 
derstand I  have  friends !  Casper  Somers  is  my  friend,  and 
he  will " 

"Silence !"  thundered  Mephisto.  "Wretch,  do  you  dare 
speak  thus  to  us  ?  Seize  him !" 

The  order  was  obeyed  by  the  two  assistants  with  the 
half-masks  and  long  ears.  They  clutched  the  plebe  by  the 
arms  and  held  him  fast,  despite  his  feeble  struggles. 

"Hold  him  steady !"  roared  the  Royal  Fiend,  apparently 
making  ready  to  plunge  the  huge  fork  into  the  victim,  who 
was  paralyzed  with  terror.  "We'll  soon  have  him  toasting 
on  the  coals !" 


1 64  The  End  of  a  Hazing. 

The  plebe  screamed  and  then 

Bang !  bang !  bang ! 

Heavy  blows  were  falling  on  the  boathouse  door.  It 
trembled  beneath  them.  The  consternation  of  the  Jolly 
Dogs  was  apparent  in  a  moment. 

Smash !    Crash !    Slam ! 

The  door  was  battered  down — it  crashed  inward  before 
the  blows ! 

And  then  the  flaring  light  of  the  fire  showed  the  open- 
ing filled  with  cadets,  with  leveled  bayoneted  muskets  at 
their  shoulders !  Those  muskets  were  pointed  straight  at 
the  roisterers  within  the  old  boathouse ! 

"Surrender !"  shouted  the  triumphant  voice  of  the  leader. 
"You  are  trapped!" 

It  was  Cadet  Corp.  Somers ! 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE   BURNING   BOATHOUSE. 

Trapped ! 

Indeed  it  seemed  that  the  Jolly  Dogs  were  caught.  Con- 
sternation reigned  among  them. 

"The  back  door!" 

It  opened  upon  the  float,  and  the  float  was  surrounded 
by  water;  but  that  made  no  difference  to  the  Jolly  Dogs 
just  then.  All  were  willing  to  take  a  bath  if  they  could 
escape. 

There  was  a  surging  rush  for  the  back  door. 

They  did  not  reach  it. 

Slam ! — open  flew  the  back  door. 

"Halt!" 

The  opening  was  blocked  with  cadets.  Another  array 
of  bayoneted  muskets  was  before  the  Jolly  Dogs ! 

The  Jolly  Dogs  did  not  feel  very  jolly  just  then ! 

"Gug-gug-gug-great  gosh!"  exclaimed  Ephraim  Gal- 
lup, catching  hold  of  Merriwell's  arm.  "This  is  an  awful 
scrape !" 

"It  is  somewhat  tart,"  came  coolly  from  beneath  Frank's 
mask.  "We  seem  to  be  in  for  it." 

"It's  bad !"  came  fiercely  from  Hodge.  "It's  going  to 
be  tough  for  us  to  be  caught  with  these  fellows." 

"But  we  are  caught  sure  as  shooting,"  said  Diamond. 

Browning  was  silent. 

"It's  no  use,  you  cannot  get  away,"  rang  out  the  tri- 
umphant voice  of  Cadet  Corp.  Somers.  "We  have  you 
right  here,  and  this  will  break  up  the  Jolly  Dogs,  and  cause 
some  of  their  friends  to  leave  Fardale  in  a  hurry." 

"He  means  us  1"  muttered  Hodge. 


1 66  The  Burning  Boathouse. 

"And  he's  right,  b'gosh !"  came  from  Ephraim. 

Frank  and  his  friends  were  far  cooler  than  the  rest  of  the 
party  trapped  thus  in  the  old  boathouse.  When  they  real- 
ized the  punishment  that  was  before  them,  the  disgrace, 
the  probable  expulsion  of  some  of  them,  the  Jolly  Dogs 
were  frantic. 

"Charge  them !"  screamed  one. 

"No  use !"  came  from  another.  "We  can't  run  against 
those  bayonets !  No  use !" 

"That's  right,"  flung  back  Somers;  "it's  no  use.  I  told 
you  that.  We  have  you  trapped." 

"Put  out  the  fire !"  screamed  one  of  the  hazers.  "Where 
is  the  fire  extinguisher?" 

He  caught  up  a  can  of  something  and  dashed  it  into  the 
fire.  Instantly  there  was  a  terrific  explosion.  Fire  flew 
all  over  the  boathouse.  The  disguised  cadets  were  thrown 
down  and  piled  upon  each  other,  while  a  rain  of  fire  came 
down  upon  them.  There  were  shrieks  and  howls.  Pande- 
monium broke  loose. 

The  boathouse  interior  seemed  to  burst  into  a  glare  of 
flame.  It  was  burning  in  a  score  of  places,  and  the  Jolly 
Dogs  were  in  the  midst  of  the  flames. 

They  scrambled  to  their  feet,  some  of  them  with  their 
clothes  on  fire.  Nothing  could  stop  them.  Bayonets  had 
no  terrors  for  them.  With  shrieks  and  howls  they  rushed 
for  the  doors.  The  cadets  outside  had  been  scarcely  less 
startled  and  alarmed.  They  did  not  try  to  stop  the  ones 
fleeing  from  the  burning  boathouse. 

Some  of  the  Jolly  Dogs  went  out  upon  the  float,  the  tide 
being  in,  and  plunged  into  the  water  to  extinguish  the 
flames  which  had  seized  upon  them.  Some  escaped  by  the 
other  door  and  were  like  frantic  furies.  They,tore  through 
the  cadets  and  fled  into  the  night. 

"Stop  them!"  screamed  Casper  Somers.  "Don't  let 
them  get  away  1  We  must  capture  them  I" 


The  Burning  Boathouse.  167 

A  huge  figure  came  shooting  out  of  the  doorway,  struck 
Casper,  sent  him  flying  through  the  air.  Casper  came  to 
the  ground  with  a  thud,  and  was  stunned,  so  that  he  no 
longer  urged  the  cadets  to  stop  the  escaping  hazers. 

Now,  among  those  same  cadets  who  had  been  forced 
to  assist  in  the  attempted  capture  of  the  Jolly  Dogs  were 
members  of  the  fantastic  organization.  They  were  given 
no  opportunity  to  warn  those  in  the  boathouse  of  their 
coming;  but,  now  there  was  a  chance,  they  did  not  lose 
the  opportunity  to  assist  them  in  escaping. 

By  the  time  Casper  Somers  recovered  sufficiently  to  get 
upon  his  feet  every  one  of  the  Jolly  Dogs  was  out  of  the 
boathouse,  and  not  one  of  them  had  been  captured. 

Then  another  figure  came  staggering  out  through  the 
doorway,  his  clothing  afire  in  one  place.  The  cadets 
grasped  him  and  beat  out  the  fire  with  their  hands. 

"It's  Ross !"  shouted  Somers.    "Are  you  hurt  ?" 

"Guess — not — much,"  gasped  the  plebe;  "but  the  other 
fellows  are  in  there !" 

"The  other  fellows?" 

"Yes— in  there !" 

"You  are  wrong.    They're  all  out." 

"Not  much!" 

"What  do  you  mean?  You  were  the  last  one  left  in  the 
place.  The  fellows  who  were  hazing  you  are  all  out." 

"Don't  mean  them.    I  mean  Henning  and  Ricker." 

"They  are  plebes !"  exclaimed  a  cadet.  "It  must  be  they 
were  two  of  the  plebes  those  fellows  were  hazing." 

"Right,"  gasped  Ross. 

"And  they  are  in  there  now?"  shouted  Casper  Somers, 
in  horror,  for  the  interior  of  the  boathouse  seemed  a  sea 
of  fire.  "Where  are  they  ?" 

'Fastened  in  a  closet.    They  can't  get  out  I    They  will 
j  burned  to  death !" 


1 68  The  Burning  Boathouse. 

"They  will,  sure !"  shouted  several  cadets,  and  all  seemed 
overcome  with  horror. 

"Somebody  must  make  an  attempt  to  save  them !" 
shouted  Casper  Somers.  "Who  will  go  in  there  and  try  to 
rescue  them?" 

"I  will!" 

A  fellow  in  a  fantastic  rig,  his  face  covered  by  a  mask, 
suddenly  appeared  before  the  door. 

It  was  one  of  the  Jolly  Dogs ! 

But  one  instant  did  he  hesitate,  and  then  he  bounded 
in  at  the  doorway,  and  rushed  forward,  seeming  sur- 
rounded by  fire.  Smoke  shut  down  and  obscured  him  from 
view. 

"Who  was  that?"  asked  a  voice. 

"It  was  Frank  Merriwell !"  answered  another.  "I  rec- 
ognized him  by  the  sound  of  his  voice." 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

A    MAD   ACT   AND    REMORSE. 

"Frank  Merriwell!"  muttered  Casper  Somers.  "Was 
that  Frank  Merriwell?" 

"Sure  as  fate !"  cried  a  voice  at  his  elbow. 

"And  he's  gone  to  his  death!"  said  a  cadet,  his  voice 
quivering.  "He'll  never  come  out  of  there  alive !" 

"It  was  a  brave  act — a  brave  act !" 

"Frank  Merriwell!"  grated  Somers;  "and  he  went  in 
there !  A  brave  act !  Do  they  think  I  dare  not  go  where 
Merriwell  goes!" 

Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  leaped  forward, and  sprang  into 
the  boathouse. 

"Stop  him !"  he  heard  the  cry. 

"Ha!  they  see  me!"  he  thought.  "Now  they  know  I 
dare  go  anywhere  that  Frank  Merriwell  goes !  I'll  get  out 
some  way,  and  I  will  be  as  much  of  a  hero  as  Merriwell  is." 

It  was  this  thought  alone  that  forced  him  forward  into 
the  frightful  smoke  and  heat.  He  was  desperate,  made  so 
by  the  thought  that  Frank  might  succeed  in  rescuing  the 
two  plebes  and  so  cover  himself  with  glory. 

Casper  rushed  forward  swiftly.  He  knew  something  of 
the  interior  of  the  old  boathouse,  and  he  located  the  posi- 
tion of  the  closet  in  which  the  plebes  had  been  confined. 

The  closet  was,  properly,  a  small  storeroom. 

The  fire  scorched  and  stung  him,  smoke  filled  his  mouth 
and  nostrils,  but  he  trie'd  not  to  suck  it  down  into  his  lungs. 

He  reached  the  storeroom  door.  Frank  Merriwell  was 
there,  and  he  had  torn  the  door  open. 

The  two  plebes,  Henning  and  Ricker,  came  staggering 
out.  Frank  caught  hold  of  them  and  gave  them  a  push 


170          A  Mad  Act  and  Remorse. 

toward  the  back  door.  One  of  them  fell,  while  the  other 
rushed  toward  the  door. 

Merriwell  stooped  over  the  fallen  plebe  to  lift  him.  He 
had  not  seen  Somers. 

At  that  moment  a  fiend  of  fury  entered  Somers'  heart. 
He  saw  that  Frank  would  lift  the  plebe  and  fling  him  over 
his  shoulder,  that  he  would  carry  the  fellow  out  to  the  open 
air,  that  he  would  be  cheered  as  he  appeared. 

"Curse  him  I"  thought  Casper.  "It  is  his  luck !  Well,  I 
think  I'll  stop  that  business  right  here !" 

He  leaped  at  Frank,  for  now  he  was  sure  it  was  Frank, 
the  latter  having  flung  aside  his  mask.  He  struck  Merry, 
who  was  stooping  over  the  fallen  plebe.  Casper  hit  Frank 
behind  the  ear,  knocking  him  clean  over  the  plebe. 

Then  Somers  caught  up  the  plebe.  He  seemed  to  have 
wonderful  strength  at  that  moment.  With  the  fellow  in 
his  arms,  he  hurried  through  the  smoke  and  heat  toward 
the  door.  He  did  not  try  to  get  out  the  back  way,  but  re- 
treated to  the  door  by  which  he  had  entered. 

The  fire  reached  out  to  grasp  him.  Long  fingers  of 
flame  seemed  to  point  at  him  accusingly.  Glaring  faces 
leered  at  him  in  mockery. 

The  cadet  did  not  stop  to  think.  He  felt  that  he  must 
reach  the  open  air  quickly  or  perish.  He  was  strangling, 
and  his  strength  was  giving  out. 

Where  was  the  door  ?  Fire  seemed  all  around  him.  He 
could  not  find  the  door.  He  seemed  cut  off  from  escape. 

"I  must  find  it — I  must !" 

That  was  his  thought. 

Then  came  another. 

"I'm  trapped  in  this  burning  boathouse !" 

Horror  and  despair  seized  upon  him.  He  clung  to  the 
plebe  in  a  mechanical  manner  without  knowing  that  he  was 
doing  so.  Now  the  fiery  faces  were  grinning  at  him  on 
all  sides,  and  he  fancied  that  the  demons  of  the  flames  had 


A  Mad  Act  and  Remorse.  171 

hemmed  him  in  and  were  keeping  him  from  finding  the 
door.  They  tried  to  clutch  him  with  their  red  fingers. 
Black  hands  of  smoke  reached  for  him. 

Must  he  die  there  in  that  place  ?  Must  he  perish  in  such 
a  terrible  manner  simply  because  Frank  Merriwell  had 
rushed  in  there  and  he  had  felt  it  was  necessary  that  he 
should  follow? 

Something  seemed  to  tell  him  that  was  not  the  reason 
why  he  could  not  find  the  door.  He  had  struck  Frank 
Merriwell  down  and  left  him  lying  in  the  midst  of  the 
flames  and  smoke.  This  was  his  punishment — this  was 
retribution.  It  had  overtaken  him  swiftly. 

These  and  a  thousand  other  thoughts  seemed  to  flash 
through  his  head.  But  a  very  few  moments  passed,  al- 
though to  him  it  seemed  hours.  He  wondered  that  the 
building  should  burn  so  slowly.  Then  he  fancied  he  knew 
the  reason  for  it.  The  fire  demons  were  holding  back  that 
he  might  be  properly  tortured  and  punished  for  his  crime. 

Crime !  For  the  first  time  the  thought  came  to  him  that 
it  might  be  a  crime.  He  had  not  intended  it  as  such,  but 
he  had  struck  Frank  a  fearful  blow — enough  to  stun  him. 
Merriwell  had  been  knocked  across  the  plebe,  and  Somers 
had  not  seen  him  make  a  move  to  get  up.  Casper  had  left 
him  there. 

"That's  why  I  can't  find  the  door !"  thought  the  remorse- 
stricken  fellow.  "I  have  killed  him,  for  he  is' being  burned 
to  death !  And  I  am  burning  with  him !" 

He  screamed  huskily,  and  then,  gurgling,  gasping, 
strangling,  but  still  clinging  to  the  plebe,  he  suddenly  fell 
out  through  the  open  doorway. 

Cadets  rushed  forward  and  lifted  them  both.  They  were 
carried  from  the  vicinity  of  the  burning  boathouse. 

The  clothing  of  neither  Somers  nor  the  plebe  was  on 
fire,  but  both  were  overcome  by  smoke.  They  lay  on  the 


172  A  Mad  Act  and  Remorse. 

ground,  coughing  and  strangling,  suffering  tortures  with 
every  breath  drawn  into  their  lungs. 

After  a  time  Casper  began  to  breathe  easier,  although  he 
felt  that  his  face  and  hands  were  smarting. 

Admiring  friends  had  gathered  about  him.  They  were 
doing  all  they  could  for  him.  They  were  asking  anxiously 
how  he  felt. 

"It  was  a  brave  thing  to  do !  You  saved  Ricker's  life, 
Mr.  Somers !"  cried  a  cadet. 

"We  had  given  you  up,"  declared  another ;  "but  we  were 
watching  for  you  when  you  appeared." 

"Where  is  Merriwell?"  asked  a  third.  "He  went  in 
ahead  of  you." 

Casper  sat  up  suddenly. 

"Stand  back !"  he  commanded,  huskily — "stand  back  so 
I  can  see  the  fire !" 

They  stood  aside  to  enable  him  to  look  at  the  boat- 
house.  It  was  a  mass  of  flames. 

"Heavens !"  gasped  Somers.  "If  anybody  is  in  there 
now  he's  done  for !" 

"Sure  as  fate,"  said  a  cadet.    "Where  is  Merriwell  ?" 

"Didn't  he  come  out?" 

"No." 

"Make  sure  of  it !"  cried  Casper,  desperately.  "It  must 
be  that  he  came  out.  You  did  not  see  him,  that  is  all. 
Somebody  must  have  seen  him." 

"Somebody  must  have  seen  him  if  he  came  out  at  all/' 
agreed  the  cadet. 

"Make  sure — ask  everybody !" 

The  order  was  obeyed.  The  cadets  passed  the  question, 
while  Casper  sat  in  horrified  suspense  and  waited,  hope 
dying  to  fear. 

"He  did  not  escape !"  his  seared  lips  muttered.  "He  is 
in  there  now — in  that  sea  of  fire !  I  am  the  cause  of  it ! 
I  killed  him!  Oh,  mercy!" 


A  Mad  Act  and  Remorse.  173 

Casper  covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  He  trembled 
all  over,  and  the  horror  that  grasped  his  heart  was  sicken- 
ing. He  feared  to  uncover  his  face  lest  his  companions 
should  see  the  proof  of  his  guilt  written  there. 

He  clung  to  the  last  thread  of  hope.  He  longed  to  hear 
some  one  tell  him  that  Frank  had  escaped. 

"Oh,"  he  muttered,  "it  didn't  seem  that  I  struck  him  so 
hard  I" 

He  knew  he  had  struck  Frank  a  fearful  blow,  but  he  was 
trying  to  lighten  his  load  of  guilt  in  some  way. 

After  a  little  time,  rage  seized  upon  him. 

"Oh,  curse  that  fellow !"  he  thought.  "See  what  he  has 
brought  me  to!  Before  he  came  here  I  stood  at  the  top 
in  the  academy.  I  had  good  reasons  for  striking  him !  I 
did  not  mean  to  knock  him  down  and  leave  him  there — I 
did  not  think  of  that !  It  was  all  an  accident.  He  should 
have  escaped.  Why  didn't  the  fool  get  up  and  crawl  out 
after  I  struck  him  ?  What  made  him  lay  there  and  burn  ? 
I'm  not  to  blame  ?" 

But  he  knew  that  he  was  to  blame,  and  he  could  not  con- 
vince himself  that  he  was  not. 

"Why  don't  they  come  and  tell  me  he  is  alive?" 

The  glare  of  the  burning  boathouse  shone  far  out  on  the 
waters  of  the  cove.  The  light  was  seen  at  a  distance,  and 
people  were  hurrying  to  the  spot.  Even  from  the  village 
some  were  coming. 

The  cadets  regarded  the  destruction  of  the  building  with 
sorrow.  Many  a  hilarious  time  had  been  held  in  that  boat- 
house.  No  more  would  the  Jolly  Dogs  meet  there.  In 
fact,  when  all  the  truth  was  known  of  the  events  of  this 
night,  it  was  doubtful  if  the  Jolly  Dogs  would  meet  any- 
where. The  faculty  would  have  a  matter  to  take  hold  of 
with  a  firm  hand. 

Somers  took  his  hands  from  his  face  and  looked  at  the 
burning  building.  Again  he  saw  those  flaring  faces  peer- 


174          A  Mad  Act  and  Remorse. 

ing  at  him.  It  seemed  that  all  the  others  must  see  them. 
The  demons  were  pointing  at  him.  They  seemed  to  say  : 

"There  he  is!    There  he  is!" 

Then,  from  out  of  the  heart  of  the  fire  a  dark  mass  rose 
slowly.  Somers  gasped  and  stared  at  it.  It  was  a  human 
body  in  a  recumbent  position. 

"Mr.  Somers,  no  one  seems  to  have  seen  Frank  Merri- 
well  leave  the  boathouse." 

A  cadet  at  Casper's  side  was  speaking. 

With  trembling  hand,  Somers  pointed  at  the  black  figure 
that  was  floating  upward  in  the  midst  of  the  flames. 

"There  he  is,"  he  screamed. 

Then  he  toppled  over  in  a  dead  faint. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

HAUNTING    FEARS. 

The  boathouse  burned  down.  It  had  been  a  landmark 
on  the  shore  of  the  cove,  but  it  was  utterly  destroyed. 

But  when  it  was  reported  that  Frank  Merriwell  had  per- 
ished in  the  boathouse,  regret  at  the  loss  of  the  building  was 
overcome  by  horror  at  the  loss  of  a  human  life. 

The  cadets  huddled  together  and  talked  about  Merriwell. 
They  repeated  stories  of  his  wonderful  doings  in  the  past. 
They  declared  he  was  one  of  the  finest  fellows  who  ever 
breathed ;  some  of  them  wept ;  all  seemed  overcome  by  the 
tragedy. 

Frank's  friends  appeared.  None  of  them  wore  the  dis- 
guises given  them  by  the  Jolly  Dogs.  They  stood  together, 
speaking  in  low  tones  and  staring  at  the  smoldering  and 
glowing  ruins  of  the  boathouse.  They  seemed  quite  over- 
come, although  none  of  them  shed  tears. 

When  Casper  Somers  was  brought  out  of  his  swoon  he 
groaned : 

"Why  didn't  I  die  in  there  with  him !" 

This  the  cadets  considered  remarkable,  as  it  was  known 
that  Casper  had  never  liked  Frank  very  well.  It  softened 
the  hearts  of  some  toward  Somers,  for  he  must  be  a  fine 
fellow  who  could  feel  such  grief  over  the  death  of  one  he 
disliked. 

"You  did  your  duty!"  said  a  cadet  "You  brought  out 
Ricker,  and  that  was  a  heroic  act !" 

Casper  groaned  again. 

So  they  thought  him  a  hero,  and  he  was  a  wretch  with 
the  blood  of  murdered  Frank  Merriwell  on  his  hands ! 

But  they  must  never  know.    Safety  lay  in  silence.    What 


176  Haunting  Fears. 

living  person  could  point  a  finger  at  him  and  say,  "You 
killed  Frank  Merriwell?" 

He  would  bury  the  horrible  secret  in  his  heart — he  would 
try  to  forget.  Forget!  The  word  was  a  mockery.  He 
knew  he  could  not  forget,  even  though  he  told  himself  over 
and  over  that  he  must  and  would. 

Something  whispered  that  he  would  be  haunted  all  his 
life  by  the  memory  of  that  terrible  deed.  He  had  hated 
Frank  Merriwell  living,  now  he  feared  him  dead.  Merri- 
well would  give  him  no  rest.  He  felt  that  Frank's  spirit 
would  pursue  him. 

Somers  tried  to  make  himself  feel  that  he  was  the  one 
injured,  and  that  Merriwell  had  met  with  a  fate  which  he 
deserved,  but  he  could  not  succeed. 

The  surgeon  from  the  academy  appeared  and  attended  to 
those  who  had  been  injured.  He  bandaged  Somers'  hands. 
He  placed  something  cooling  on  Casper's  face,  and  then 
tied  it  about  with  strips  of  cloth  till  nothing  but  Casper's 
mouth  and  eyes  could  be  seen. 

"They  tell  me  you  did  a  most  heroic  thing,  Mr.  Somers/' 
said  the  surgeon.  "They  say  you  brought  out  a  cadet  at 
the  peril  of  your  own  life." 

Somers  was  silent.  He  did  not  feel  that  he  could  trust 
his  voice. 

"But  the  other  poor  fellow  who  went  in  there,"  con- 
tinued the  surgeon,  "they  say  he  perished  in  the  fire.  It  is 
a  frightful  thing,  and  I  fear  it  will  prove  a  serious  matter 
in  the  academy.  Of  course,  there  will  be  a  thorough  in- 
vestigation." 

Somers  writhed  a  bit.  Why  should  he  fear  an  investiga- 
tion? He  asked  himself  that  question.  The  only  ones  to 
fear  the  investigation  were  the  members  of  the  Jolly  Dogs 
who  had  been  hazing  three  plebes  in  the  boathouse. 

Then  came  upon  him  a  horrible  fear  that  he  could  not 
keep  his  secret — that  he  would  betray  himself  in  some  man- 


Haunting  Fears.  177 

ner.  Sometimes  he  talked  in  his  sleep.  He  might  tell 
everything  then.  It  would  be  natural,  for  he  knew  the 
memory  of  his  deed  would  haunt  him — would  prey  upon 
his  mind.  Then  he  thought  that  he  would  not  dare  to 
sleep  where  anyone  could  hear  him  if  he  did  talk.  In  that 
case,  he  must  get  away  from  the  academy. 

For  a  moment  that  thought  was  a  relief.  He  would 
leave  Fardale  without  delay. 

But  he  knew  he  was  injured.  How  severe  his  injuries 
were  he  could  not  tell.  He  might  be  confined  to  the  hos- 
pital unless  he  ran  away  at  once. 

Somers  had  almost  decided  that  he  would  run  away 
when  another  fear  assailed  him.  Such  an  act  would  arouse 
suspicion.  It  would  be  asked  why  he  had  left  in  such  a 
manner.  The  surgeon  had  spoken  of  an  investigation.  It 
was  possible  an  investigation  might  reveal  his  guilt  in 
some  way. 

Never  was  a  human  being  more  tortured  than  he  as  all 
these  wild  thoughts  flitted  through  his  mind.  At  least, 
Somers  himself  thought  so. 

Frank  Merriwell's  bones  would  be  found  amid  the 
ruins.  He  scarcely  dared  look  toward  the  glowing  coals 
for  fear  of  seeing  them  there. 

The  pain  of  his  burns  he  scarcely  noticed.  There  was  a 
pain  in  his  heart  that  blotted  out  everything  else. 

All  at  once  he  clutched  the  surgeon  by  the  arm,  asking 
hoarsely : 

"Shall  I  be  disfigured?  How  badly  am  I  burned? 
Shall  I  bear  the  marks  after  I  get  well  ?" 

Vain  of  his  good  looks,  the  thought  that  he  might  be 
disfigured  gave  the  wretched  lad  another  pang.  If  he  was 
disfigured,  Frank  Merriwell  would  be  to  blame.  He 
would  not  have  gone  into  the  burning  building  had  Frank 
stayed  out.  But  he  had  seen  Frank  dash  to  the  rescue  of 
the  imprisoned  plebes,  and,  rather  than  have  it  said  that 


1 78  Haunting  Fears. 

the  fellow  he  hated  had  dared  face  a  danger  from  which 
he  shrank,  he  followed. 

He  had  not  received  the  burns  going  in;  he  was  sure 
of  that.  When  coming  out,  after  having  struck  Merriwell 
down,  the  fire  had  hemmed  him  in  and  blistered  his  face 
and  hands.  It  seemed  that  the  flames  had  tried  to  wreak 
vengeance  upon  him  for  his  act. 

Tremblingly  Casper  waited  for  the  surgeon's  answer. 

"I  can't  tell  about  that  now,"  was  the  reply;  "but  I  do 
not  think  you  are  burned  severely  enough  to  mark  you  for 
life.  Your  hair  is  singed  off  and  your  face  scorched,  but 
this  application  will  prevent  blistering  to  a  certain  extent. 
As  soon  as  we  reach  the  hospital,  I'll  put  on  something 
better." 

Casper  drew  a  breath  of  relief. 

"I  advise  you  to  go  to  the  hospital  as  soon  as  possible," 
said  the  surgeon. 

He  felt  that  he  would  go  at  once.  He  wished  to  get 
away  from  the  vicinity  of  the  tragedy. 

Casper  had  been  surrounded  by  sympathizing  friends,  all 
of  whom  were  anxious  about  his  condition.  They  ex- 
pressed satisfaction  and  delight  on  learning  that  his  in- 
juries were  no  worse.  They  would  have  shaken  his  hand, 
but  both  his  hands  were  bandaged.  They  praised  him 
for  his  heroism,  but  to  him  their  praise  seemed  like 
mockery. 

"I  must  get  away  from  them,"  he  told  himself. 

And  so,  when  all  were  looking  for  human  bones  amid 
the  ruins,  he  started  to  slip  away.  He  was  stopped  by  a 
hand  that  fell  on  his  arm. 

In  his  ear  a  voice  said : 

"Stop!" 

With  a  gasp,  Casper  whirled  about  and  faced  the  one 
who  had  stopped  him. 

"Rickerl" 


Haunting  Fears.  179 

The  name  came  from  his  lips  in  a  gush  of  relief.  He 
had  feared  something — he  had  feared  he  knew  not  what. 

It  was  Ricker,  the  plebe  he  had  brought  out  of  the 
burning  house  in  his  arms ;  but,  to  his  astonishment,  Ricker 
did  not  seem  harmed  at  all. 

"You,"  said  Somers — "weren't  you  burned  at  all?" 

"Not  much,"  answered  Ricker. 

Casper  could  not  understand  that.  Why  had  the  fire 
burned  him  and  spared  the  plebe  he  was  carrying  in  his 
arms  ?  Had  it  been  because  he  was  a  guilty  wretch  ? 

Then  Somers  grew  angry  with  Ricker  for  escaping  so 
easily.  Why  should  a  plebe  escape  and  he  be  burned? 
He  began  to  snarl  at  Ricker,  talking  incoherently. 

"Excuse  me,  Mr.  Somers,"  said  the  plebe.  "You  are 
hurt.  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  saying." 

That  stopped  Casper  instantly.  He  felt  that  he  was 
talking  wildly,  and  he  was  afraid  he  would  say  something 
that  would  betray  him.  That  was  the  one  horrible  haunt- 
ing fear  that  gripped  and  squeezed  his  quivering  heart. 

"What  do  you  want  of  me?"  he  huskily  growled. 

Of  course  Ricker  wanted  to  thank  him  for  saving  his 
life;  Casper  felt  sure  of  that. 

But  that  was  not  what  Ricker  wanted. 

"What  happened  to  Mr.  Merriwell?"  asked  the  plebe, 
looking  straight  at  Somers.  "I  saw  him  go  down  as  if 
something  struck  him,  and  he  did  not  get  up.  I  was  so 
scared  that  I  did  not  have  any  strength.  What  happened 
to  him?" 

Casper  cowered  with  a  gasping  cry.  He  seemed  about 
to  sink  to  the  ground.  Ricker  caught  hold  of  him  and  held 
him  up. 

"What — happened — to — him  ?" 

Huskily,  faintly  Somers  repeated  the  question. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  for  asking  you  now,"  said  the  plebe. 
"I  did  not  know  it  affected  you  so." 


180  Haunting  Fears. 

Somers  braced  up. 

"I'm  all  right,"  he  savagely  declared.  "I  was  weak  for 
a  moment,  that's  all.  Why  do  you  ask  me  about — about 
Merriwell?" 

"I  thought  you  must  have  seen  what  happened." 

The  cadet  corporal  wondered  what  Ricker  had  seen — 
what  he  knew — what  he  suspected.  He  remembered  that 
the  plebe  had  been  face  downward  on  the  floor  when  the 
fatal  blow  was  struck.  Could  it  be  that  he  suspected  foul 
play? 

The  thought  made  Casper  tremble.  Revelation  might 
follow  suspicion.  But  he  must  bluff  it  out,  weak  and 
wavering  though  he  was. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  he  harshly  demanded.  "Do  you 
insinuate — I  mean  do  you  think — I  did  wrong  in  leaving 
Merriwell  ?  I  couldn't  bring  you  both  out !  I  nearly  lost 
my  life  trying  to  save  you !  If  I'd  let  you  alone,  you  might 
have  roasted,  and  I  might  have  escaped  without  a  burn. 
And  now  you  come  about  with  your  infernal  questions  1 
You  look  at  me  as  if  I  am  guilty  because  I  didn't  save 
Merriwell,  too !  What  right  have  you  to  look  at  me  that 
way?  Stop  it!  Don't  ask  too  many  questions!  I  saved 
your  life.  Don't  forget  that.  What  do  you  want  to  do- 
do you  want  to  make  trouble?" 

Ricker  was  bewildered  more  than  ever.  Why  should 
Somers  become  so  excited  over  a  simple  question  ?  Why 
should  he  act  and  talk  so  strangely? 

"I  don't  want  to  make  any  trouble,  but  it  seemed  strange 
to  me  that  Frank  Merriwell  should  fall  down  so  suddenly 
and  fail  to  get  up.  It  couldn't  be  that  he  was  overcome 
by  smoke  in  such  a  sudden  manner.  It  seemed  that  some 
falling  object,  a  timber,  perhaps,  struck  him  down." 

Casper  grasped  eagerly  at  this. 

"That  was  it — that  was  it!"  he  panted.  "Something 
fell  and  struck  him  on  the  head." 


Haunting  Fears.  181 

"What  was  itt' 

"How  should  I  know  ?"  snarled  the  cadet  corporal.  "I 
didn't  have  time  to  stop  and  see." 

"Oh,  of  course  not!" 

"Then  why  do  you  ask?  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  get 
you  out.  Don't  forget  that.  I'd  helped  Merriwell  if  I 
could.  I  didn't  suppose  he  was  hurt — much.  I  can't  talk 
about  it  now.  Don't  talk  about  it  yourself.  It  won't  do. 
Remember  that  I  saved  you,  and  do  as  I  tell  you.  Keep 
still." 

He  would  have  hastened  away,  but  one  of  his  friends 
came  up  and  began  to  talk  to  him. 

Bewildered  and  wondering,  Ricker  turned  aside.  Why 
had  Somers  kept  repeating  that  he  had  saved  his  life? 
Why  had  Somers  seemed  to  fear  that  he  would  talk  ?  Why 
had  Somers  ordered  him  to  keep  still? 

"That  fellow  is  half  crazed  by  what  has  happened," 
Ricker  decided.  "That  is  what  ails  him.  He  is  not  re- 
sponsible for  anything  he  says  now." 

Somers  was  worried  by  what  had  just  happened.  He 
wondered  if  he  had  not  talked  too  much  already. 

Casper  showed  that  he  did  not  wish  to  talk  with  his 
friends.  They  thought  it  was  because  he  had  been  burned 
in  the  fire.  Many  of  them  kept  telling  him  over  and  over 
what  a  brave  thing  he  had  done. 

"If  only  you  had  saved  Merriwell,  too,"  said  one. 

"I  am  no  more  than  human,"  said  Casper.  "I  couldn't 
bring  both  those  fellows  out.  I  thought  Merriwell  was 
able  to  take  care  of  himself." 

Then  it  was  that  some  of  Merriwell's  friends  joined  the 
party.  Casper  saw  them  coming  and  felt  like  taking  to 
his  heels,  but  knew  that  would  betray  the  real  cowardice 
of  his  heart.  At  last,  he  read  himself  aright,  and  he 
knew  he  was  a  coward.  Up  to  that  hour  he  had  fancied 
that  there  was  the  making  of  a  hero  in  him.  The  events 


1 82  Haunting  Fears. 

of  that  hour  had  caused  him  to  seem  heroic  in  other 
eyes,  but  in  his  heart  he  knew  he  was  a  pitiful  coward. 

It  was  strange  that  Merriwell's  friends  did  not  seem 
grief-stricken.  They  were  very  sober,  but  not  one  of 
them  was  shedding  tears.  He  could  not  understand  that, 
for  certain  it  was  that  all  of  them  entertained  a  strong 
affection  for  the  lad  who  had  perished  in  the  flames. 

Bruce  forced  his  way  in  among  the  cadets  till  he  was 
face  to  face  with  Somers.  Then  it  was  that  Casper  was 
glad  because  his  face  was  hidden  by  bandages,  for  it 
would  not  betray  him  now.  His  eyes  alone  might  give  him 
away. 

"You  were  the  last  to  see  Mr.  Merriwell,  were  you  not, 
Mr.  Somers  ?"  questioned  Browning,  in  a  cold  and  formal 
manner. 

Casper  felt  that  it  was  best  to  reply  and  appear  as 
natural  as  possible,  so  he  answered : 

"I  presume  I  was,  sir." 

"Where  was  he  at  that  time?" 

"In  the  burning  boathouse." 

"What  was  he  doing?" 

"Lying  on  the  floor." 

"Overcome  by  smoke?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Then  you  don't  know  what  happened  to  him  after  he 
went  in  there?" 

"All  I  know  is  that  he  opened  the  storeroom  and  let 
out  the  two  plebes  who  were  confined  in  there." 

Casper's  voice  was  not  quite  steady,  but  he  did  his 
best  to  steady  it.  He  longed  to  refuse  to  answer  the 
questions  of  Frank  Merriwell's  Yale  chum,  but  did  not 
dare  to  do  so. 

"Did  you  see  him  open  the  storeroom  door  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  you  saw  him  before  he  had  fallen  to  the  floor  ?" 


Haunting  Fears.  183 

"Of  course!" 

"What  did  he  do  when  he  had  opened  the  door  ?" 

"Started  the  plebes  toward  the  back  of  the  building. 
One  of  them  fell." 

"What  happened  then?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Eh?    How  is  that?" 

Browning's  eyes  seemed  to  bore  Somers  through  and 
through. 

"I  did  not  see  what  happened.  The  smoke  got  into 
my  eyes.  Next  I  saw  was  somebody  on  the  floor.  I 
picked  the  fellow  up  and  made  a  break  to  get  out  with 
him.  I  got  out,  but  came  near  burning  in  there.  That's 
all." 

"All  ?  Why,  you  said  you  saw  Merriwell  lying  on  the 
floor." 

"So  I  did — after  I  picked  the  other  chap  up.  At  least, 
I  suppose  it  was  Merriwell  now.  Didn't  know  who  it 
was  then." 

"Don't  you  think  Merriwell  was  knocked  down  by — 
something?"  asked  Bruce,  slowly,  his  eyes  still  boring 
Casper. 

"How  do  I  know !"  snarled  the  cadet.    "I  didn't  see." 

"Don't  get  excited.  Answer  my  questions  calmly.  That 
is  all  I  wish  of  you." 

"Why  should  I  answer  your  questions?  I  am  not  on 
trial !" 

"Not  now,"  said  Bruce,  significantly ;  "but  you  may  be 
later." 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 
CASPER'S  DESPAIR. 

Casper's  friends  interfered. 

"Look  here !"  said  one  of  them,  glaring  at  the  big  Yale 
man,  "what  are  you  trying  to  do?  Can't  you  see  this 
terrible  affair  has  broken  Mr.  Somers  all  up?  He  should 
be  in  hospital  this  minute.  Later  he  will  be  able  to  tell 
you  all  about  it." 

Browning  bowed,  coolly. 

"He  may  have  to,"  he  said. 

Casper  shivered. 

The  cadets  began  to  look  at  Bruce  in  a  threatening  man- 
ner and  mutter  among  themselves.  In  their  eyes  Somers 
was  a  hero,  but  the  big  college  man  talked  as  if  Casper 
was  guilty  of  something. 

Browning  seemed  willing  to  let  the  matter  drop  then 
and  there,  for  the  time  being,  at  least. 

But  now  Casper  knew  he  was  suspected  by  Merriwell's 
friends,  and  it  added  to  his  fears.  Over  and  over  he  told 
himself  that  they  could  not  prove  anything,  but  that  did 
not  quiet  the  tumult  in  his  fear-shaken  heart.  In  his  ear 
a  voice  seemed  to  whisper  that  the  whole  black  truth  must 
come  out. 

Somers  watched  his  opportunity  and  slipped  away  from 
the  others.  He  was  in  a  tempest  of  doubt  and  indecision. 
At  one  moment  he  thought  he  would  stay  and  face  it  out, 
at  another  he  was  on  the  point  of  running  away  imme- 
diately. To  accept  the  latter  alternative  he  knew  would 
seem  like  an  admission  of  guilt,  but  it  seemed  impossible 
for  him  to  stay  and  face  what  he  felt  must  come. 

Anyway,  he  decided  to  return  to  the  academy.    If  he  ran 


Casper's  Despair.  185 

away,  there  were  some  things  he  wanted.  All  must  be  in 
a  state  of  confusion  at  the  academy  and  the  camp,  and  he 
could  get  in  and  out  without  being  stopped  if  he  moved 
quickly. 

As  he  was  hurrying  along,  he  suddenly  stopped,  a  low 
exclamation  breaking  from  his  lips. 

At  a  little  distance  a  person  was  advancing  toward  him. 
The  moon  was  hanging  low,  but  its  light  fell  full  on  the 
face  of  the  advancing  one. 

At  first  Somers  thought  himself  deceived  by  imagina- 
tion, but  he  quickly  decided  that  it  was  no  trick  of  his 
imagination.  He  could  see  the  figure  plainly  in  the  white 
moonlight,  and  there  was  something  familiar  about  it. 

Somers  began  to  tremble  and  his  teeth  chattered.  He 
could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  his  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  bulge  from  his  head  as  he  stared. 

"It  can't  be!"  he  whispered. 

The  figure  came  straight  toward  him,  walking  delib- 
erately and  without  haste.  If  its  feet  made  any  sound 
it  was  murrled  by  the  grass. 

More  and  more  distinctly  Casper  saw  the  face  in  the 
moonlight.  He  knew  that  figure,  he  knew  that  face.  His 
heart  was  frozen  with  an  icy  chill. 

"Frank  Merriwell !"  he  half  groaned. 

Without  a  word,  the  figure  continued  to  advance. 

"It's  his  ghost !"  screamed  Casper,  and  then  he  took  to 
his  heels,  runping  as  if  the  Evil  One  pursued. 

As  Casper  fled,  he  kept  looking  over  his  shoulder  to  see 
if  he  was  pursued  by  the  ghostly  form.  It  gave  him  some 
relief  when  he  could  see  nothing  more  of  the  "thing." 

"I'm  haunted !     I'm  haunted !" 

That  thought  kept  running  through  Casper's  head.  He 
had  not  believed  in  ghosts,  or  had  pretended  he  did  not 
believe  in  them,  but  now  all  that  was  changed.  He  did 


1 86  Casper's  Despair. 

not  doubt  that  he  had  seen  the  ghost  of  the  lad  he  had 
murdered. 

And  he  felt  that  he  must  see  it  again  and  again.  That 
it  must  follow  him  like  Nemesis,  that  it  would  drive  him  to 
his  death,  that  nothing  could  "lay"  it  he  was  convinced. 

He  ran  on  and  on,  panting  at  first,  then  gasping,  then 
breathing  hoarsely.  Several  times,  as  he  turned  his  head 
to  look  back  over  his  shoulder,  he  stumbled  and  fell  heavily, 
but  he  always  scrambled  up  as  quickly  as  possible  and  fled 
onward. 

Even  as  he  ran  he  began  to  see  unpleasant  visions  of 
the  life  he  had  led.  He  had  always  thought  himself  as 
good  as  other  fellows,  but  now  all  the  mean  and  con- 
temptible things  he  ever  did  rose  up  before  him  in  ac- 
cusation. He  remembered  the  first  real  mean  act  of  his 
life,  and  how  ashamed  of  himself  he  had  been,  how  he 
had  vowed  over  and  over  that  never,  never,  never  would  he 
do  another  thing  like  that.  But  he  forgot  the  vow,  and 
he  saw  that  the  first  crooked  act  had  paved  the  way  for  all 
the  crookedness  that  followed.  He  saw  that  the  next 
mean  action  had  not  troubled  his  conscience  so  much,  and 
soon  he  had  been  able  to  do  almost  anything  without  a 
qualm. 

He  had  smothered  his  conscience,  but  had  not  slain  it. 
Now  it  had  leaped  into  life  again  and  was  pointing  out  all 
the  unpleasant  things  of  his  life. 

Casper  saw  how  that  first  crooked  act  had  led  to  the  last 
vile  deed  in  the  burning  boathouse.  He  could  see  how, 
step  by  step,  he  had  advanced  down  the  road  that  leads 
to  destruction.  Then  it  was  he  bitterly  regretted  that  he 
had  not  kept  his  vow  when  he  first  swore  never  to  do 
another  thing  he  was  ashamed  of — never  in  all  his  life. 

In  many  instances  he  had  given  rein  to  his  passions  and 
his  desire  for  revenge  for  some  fancied  wrong.  He  had 
caused  the  expulsion  of  a  cadet  from  Fardale  for  an  act 


Casper's  Despair.  187 

of  which  the  cadet  was  utterly  innocent.  Casper  had 
brought  about  the  cadet's  disgrace  because  the  fellow 
promised  to  become  something  of  a  rival. 

Never  had  he  tolerated  anyone  who  looked  like  a  dan- 
gerous rival.  Always  had  he  found  a  way  to  crush  them 
till  he  met  Frank  Merriwell. 

And  now  he  had  crushed  Frank  and  stained  his  own 
hands  with  blood ! 

He  wondered  how  it  was  he  had  been  able  to  deceive 
nearly  everyone,  so  that  he  had  been  regarded  as  a  fine 
fellow  all  the  while  that  h'e  was  doing  those  crooked  things. 
He  had  been  crafty.  Even  now  he  was  regarded  as  a  hero, 
for,  had  he  not  rescued  Ricker,  the  plebe,  from  the  burn- 
ing building? 

For  a  moment  this  thought  filled  him  with  exultation, 
and  then  came  another  thought  that  crushed  him.  Not 
everyone  regarded  him  as  a  hero.  Ricker  had  questioned 
him  about  Frank  Merriwell's  fall,  and  Merriwell's  friends 
had  regarded  him  with  suspicion. 

But  the  most  crushing  thing  of  all  was  the  knowledge 
that  he  was  haunted  by  Merriwell's  ghost.  He  might  bluff 
down  suspicion  that  could  not  be  backed  by  proof,  but  he 
could  not  run  away  from  a  "spook." 

These  thoughts  had  passed  through  his  head  as  he  ran. 
From  panting  and  gasping,  he  had  begun  to  breathe 
heavily,  hoarsely.  At  last,  he  fell  down  quite  played,  and 
he  did  not  have  strength  to  drag  himself  to  his  feet. 

For  some  time  he  lay  thus,  starting  occasionally  and 
looking  all  around,  expecting  to  see  the  ghostly  form  com- 
ing toward  him  again. 

But  the  night  was  calm  and  peaceful,  and  the  moon 
was  low  in  the  west.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  such 
tragic  events  could  have  happened  on  such  a  beautiful 
night,  and  he  began  to  wonder  if  it  was  not  all  a  frightful 


1 88  Casper's  Despair. 

nightmare.  He  prayed  that  it  was  and  that  he  might 
awaken  to  find  himself  innocent. 

Suddenly  there  came  to  his  ears  a  murmur  of  voices,  and 
he  started  up  to  find  two  persons  close  at  hand.  In  the 
moonlight  he  recognized  them.  They  saw  him  and  came 
forward. 

"He  may  be  hurt,"  said  one.  "I  saw  him  fall 
heavily." 

"He  was  running  like  a  frightened  deer,"  said  the 
other. 

"Who  is  it?" 

They  paused  and  stared  down  at  him.  In  a  moment  he 
began  to  get  upon  his  feet,  doing  so  with  some  difficulty. 
He  swayed  as  he  stood  before  them. 

"I  know  you !"  he  huskily  said.  "Look  at  me,  Rupert 
Reynolds  and  Wat  Snell !  I  am  burned,  disfigured  for  life, 
and  you  brought  me  to  it !" 

"He  is  crazy !"  said  Snell,  shrinking  behind  Reynolds. 

*'No,  I  am  not!"  said  Casper.  "I  am  telling  you  the 
truth.  If  you  had  not  brought  word  of  the  meeting  of  the 
Jolly  Dogs — if  you  had  not  told  me  Frank  Merriwell  was 
with  them  and  urged  me  to  capture  him  in  the  act  of  hazing 
a  cadet,  I  should  not  be  burned  like  this  and  he  might  be 
alive  now !  I  am  not  the  only  one  who  is  guilty !  You 
are  guilty  with  me !" 

"It's  Somers,  and  he  is  raving  crazy !"  said  Rupert, 
amazed. 

"What  does  he  mean  by  saying  Merriwell  might  be 
alive  ?"  asked  Snell,  timidly. 

"He  is  dead!"  screamed  Casper.  "He  was  burned 
to  death  in  the  old  boathouse !" 

"Now  it's  certain  he  is  crazy !"  exclaimed  Rupert. 

"Yes,"  nodded  Wat,  "for  we  saw  Merriwell  not  more 
than  fifteen  minutes  ago,  and  he  was  very  much  alive." 

"Saw  him?"  cried  Somers.    "Where?" 


Casper's  Despair.  189 

"Coming  from  Snodd's  and  going*toward  the  fire." 

"It  was  his  ghost  you  saw!"  cried  Casper.  "You  are 
haunted,  too !  He  will  follow  us  all  our  lives  1  I  would 
rather  die  and  have  it  over  1" 

Then  he  became  so  wild  that  Reynolds  was  somewhat 
afraid  of  him,  and  Snell  kept  at  a  distance.  All  at  once, 
uttering  wild  cries,  he  dashed  away  once  more,  running 
like  a  deer. 

"Crazy  as  he  can  be,"  said  Rupert.  "We  must  report 
it.  He  may  do  himself  some  injury." 

"Let  him;  what  do  we  care?"  retorted  Snell.  "Let's 
get  back  to  the  village,  Rupe.  Things  have  gone  against 
us  again  in  our  attempt  to  down  Frank  Merriwell,  and  I 
don't  care  about  being  seen  around  here.  The  Old  Nick 
himself  could  not  harm  Merriwell !" 

"Somers  thinks  he  is  dead." 

"But  we  know  better.  We  thought  it  was  Merriwell 
who  went  up  toward  Snodd's,  but  he  seemed  to  be  drip- 
ping wet,  and  we  followed.  It  was  Merriwell,  and  he 
changed  his  clothes  there,  where  he  is  keeping  a  trunk 
and  much  of  his  stuff,  for  we  saw  him  going  back  toward 
the  fire." 

"Why  should  Somers  fancy  the  fellow  is  dead?" 

"Ask  me  something  easy!  Come  on,  let's  make  a 
break  for  the  village.  I  don't  want  Merriwell  and  his 
friends  to  get  their  eyes  on  me.  They  might  suspect  I  had 
a  hand  in  this  affair." 

"That's  so,"  admitted  Reynolds.  "I  guess  Somers  will 
turn  up  all  right,  so  we'll  go  back  to  the  village." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

OPENING    THE    WAY. 

When  Somers  was  missed  it  was  supposed  he  had  gone 
back  to  the  academy  to  get  into  hospital  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble, although  it  seemed  remarkable  that  he  should  have 
slipped  away  alone. 

As  all  were  ready  to  leave  the  ruins,  save  a  few  who 
were  to  remain  and  look  for  the  bones  of  the  lad  supposed 
to  be  burned,  no  small  amount  of  excitement  and  aston- 
ishment was  created  by  the  appearance  of  a  youth  who 
calmly  joined  the  party.  It  was  Frank  himself! 

When  they  realized  that  he  was  alive  and  had  not  been 
burned  a  mighty  cheer  went  up.  They  crowded  about 
him,  all  eager  to  shake  his  hand.  They  asked  him  a  thou- 
sand questions. 

He  explained  simply  that  he  had  escaped  by  the  back 
door,  finding  the  float  deserted,  had  plunged  into  the  wa- 
ter, swam  ashore  and  gone  to  John  Snodd's  to  change  his 
clothes. 

He  did  not  say  a  word  about  his  encounter  with  Somers 
in  the  burning  boathouse,  and  he  did  not  tell  that  he  had 
met  Browning  after  his  escape  and  related  everything  to 
the  big  fellow. 

"You  were  more  fortunate  than  Mr.  Somers,"  said  one 
of  the  cadets,  when  the  excitement  had  subsided  some- 
what. "He  was  badly  burned,  but  he  brought  Ricker,  a 
plebe,  out  of  the  building.  It  was  necessary  to  cover  his 
face  and  hands  with  bandages.  He's  gone  to  the  hos- 
pital." 

"Perhaps  not,"  said  Frank.  "I  met  him  as  I  was  coming 
from  Snodd's," 


Opening  the  Way.  191 

"Why,  that's  singular !  We  supposed  he  went  directly 
to  the  academy.  Did  you  speak  with  him  ?" 

"No.  The  moment  he  caught  sight  of  me  he  stopped, 
stood  still  a  bit,  and  then  gave  a  scream  and  ran."  • 

"He  was  frightened  by  your  appearance,  for  he  thought 
you  had  burned  to  death  in  the  boathouse.  It's  too  bad  I 
He  is  burned  so  that  he  may  become  crazed." 

"Perhaps  he  was,  and  that  was  how  he  happened  to  be 
going  toward  Snodd's,"  said  another. 

Then  there  was  no  small  alarm  about  Somers.  Several 
cadets  were  sent  to  the  academy  in  a  hurry  to  see  if  he 
had  appeared  there,  and  the  others  followed. 

"You  scared  the  fellow  nearly  to  death,  Merry," 
chuckled  Browning,  in  Frank's  ear.  "He  felt  sure  he  had 
killed  you.  It's  ten  to  one  he  will  not  be  found  at  the 
academy.  I  believe  he  has  run  away." 

"Let's  follow  and  find  out." 

So  Frank  and  his  Yale  chums  and  comrades  followed 
the  cadets. 

Before  the  academy  grounds  were  reached  two  of  the 
cadets  sent  forward  came  panting  back.  They  reported 
that  Casper  Somers  had  not  been  seen  at  the  academy  or 
the  camp. 

Then  a  search  for  Casper  began.  He  had  not  been 
seen  at  Snodd's,  and  the  opinion  that  he  had  become 
crazed  by  his  injuries  spread  swiftly.  It  was  thought  he 
had  wandered  away  into  the  woods  or  fields. 

All  the  rest  of  the  night  the  search  for  Casper  con- 
tinued, Frank  and  his  friends  searching  with  the  others. 

At  last,  at  dawn,  Merriwell  and  Browning,  finding 
themselves  near  their  own  camp,  resolved  to  see  how  Hans 
was  getting  along. 

They  found  the  Dutch  boy  building  a  fire. 

"Vale,  how  you  vos,  Vrankie?"  he  cried,  satisfaction 
showing  on  his  swollen  face  as  his  eyes  beheld  Merriwell. 


192  Opening  the  Way. 

"I  didn'd  knew  but  you  vos  a  goner.  Dot  veller  kept  mut- 
tering somedings  apout  Vrank  Merrivell  pein'  purnt." 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  Frank.     "What  fellow?" 

"  'Sh !"  cautioned  Hans.    "He  peen  in  dot  tent  sleebing." 

He  pointed  at  one  of  the  tents. 

"He  bretty  near  scared  der  life  uf  me  oudt  ven  he  came 
sdaggerin'  mit  der  camp  indo,"  explained  the  Dutch  lad. 
"Ad  virst  I  dink  he  vos  a  chost  mit  his  vace  und  hants 
all  ofer  mit  pandages.  But  he  took  a  dumble  down  mit  his 
vace  on,  uns  I  dake  him  indo  der  tent  und  dake  care  of 
him." 

Frank  leaped  forward,  tore  open  the  front  of  the  tent 
and  looked  in. 

"It's  Somers !"  he  exclaimed,  with  satisfaction. 

Yes,  Somers  was  there,  asleep  on  a  bed  of  boughs  and 
blankets.  He  moaned  as  Frank  entered  and  bent  over 
him. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  do  it!"  came  faintly  from  his  lips. 
"I'm  sorry  now — I'm  sorry !  But  he  is  dead,  and  I  killed 
him!  Oh-h-h!" 

His  mutterings  ended  with  a  long,  low  moan  that 
touched  Frank's  heart  in  a  tender  spot. 

"He  is  getting  his  punishment  now,"  said  Browning, 
from  the  opening  of  the  tent. 

"He  has  had  punishment  enough,"  came  softly  from 
Frank's  lips.  "Bruce,  report  to  the  academy  in  a  hurry. 
Make  a  hustle  once  in  your  life.  Somers  is  in  a  bad  way. 
He  may  die.  I'll  stay  here  by  his  side.  When  he  awakes, 
I  will  quiet  him  by  assuring  him  that  I  am  living." 

Browning  grumbled,  not  fancying  the  job  of  tramping  to 
the  academy,  but  he  did  not  think  of  rebelling.  So  he 
left  Frank  at  the  side  of  the  enemy  who  that  night  had 
come  so  near  robbing  him  of  his  life. 

"Poor  fellow !"  tenderly  muttered  Merriwell,  as  he  lis- 
tened to  the  dream  talk  of  the  injured  cadet. 


Opening  the  Way.  193 

After  a  time  Casper  awoke  and  saw  Frank  there.  He 
did  not  shriek  and  try  to  escape,  although  a  great  horror 
showed  in  his  eyes. 

"You  are  watching  to  see  me  die !"  he  faintly  whispered. 
"You  have  come  for  me !  Must  I  die  now  ?" 

"No,  Somers,  you'll  come  round  all  right,"  said  Frank. 
"I  am  no  ghost — I  am  Frank  Merriwell  in  the  flesh." 

"Impossible !" 

"I  am  telling  you  the  truth.  I  escaped  from  the  boat- 
house  by  the  back  door,  jumped  from  the  float,  and  swam 
ashore.  I  was  not  seen  by  any  of  the  cadets,  so  they 
thought  I  had  perished  in  the  fire.  I  was  not  even  burned 
much." 

It  was  some  time  before  Somers  could  realize  this  was 
true.  When  he  did  realize  it,,  he  wept  for  joy. 

"I  thought  I  had  killed  you!"  he  sobbed.  "I  thought 
the  crime  of  murder  was  on  my  soul !  Oh,  I  am  so  glad 
you  escaped!  I  don't  care  what  you  do  to  me  now!  I 
am  ready  to  be  punished !  I  am  so  glad !  Do  anything 
you  like  with  me!  It'll  be  what  I  deserve!" 

"I  forgive  you !"  said  Frank,  earnestly,  "and  I  give  you 
my  pledge  to  keep  secret  that  you  struck  me  down  in  the 
boathouse." 

Slowly  Somers  was  led  to  believe  that  Frank  really 
meant  it.  At  first  he  could  not  think  such  a  thing  possi- 
ble, but  Merriwell's  earnestness  convinced  him.  Then, 
sobbing  more  than  before,  he  said : 

"Frank  Merriwell,  you  shall  not  regret  this !  I  sweas 
to  you  that  I  will  be  a  different  fellow  from  this  time  on ! 
You  have  shown  me  the  way.  God  bless  you !" 

It  may  be  added  here  that  Frank  kept  his  pledge,  and 
Somers  kept  his.  Frank  sealed  the  lips  of  his  friends  who 
knew  what  had  happened  in  the  burning  boathouse,  while 
Somers  buried  his  past  and  began  a  new  life  with  his  re- 
^overy  from  his  injuries. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

THE     ROAD    TO    THE    HARBOR. 

The  Cove,  near  Fardale  Academy,  was  not  a  good  har- 
bor for  vessels.  Fardale  village  lay  somewhat  more  than 
a  mile  from  the  academy.  Fardale  harbor  was  half  a 
mile  to  the  south  of  the  village,  which  was  not  located  on 
the  coast  directly,  but  lay  back  from  the  water.  Fardale 
was  not  much  of  a  seaport,  the  railroad  securing  the  heav- 
iest part  of  the  freighting. 

"The  Harbor"  was  the  name  given  the  small  collection 
of  wretched  houses  in  the  vicinity  of  the  two  wharves. 
The  families  living  at  The  Harbor  were  of  the  poor  class, 
and  it  was  said  that  the  most  of  them  were  none  too 
honest. 

Inza  Burrage  had  an  artistic  temperament  and  an 
eye  for  the  picturesque.  To  her  there  had  ever  been  some- 
thing intensely  fascinating  and  picturesque  about  The 
Harbor  and  inhabitants  thereof,  nearly  all  of  whom  fished 
more  or  less. 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  Inza  to  visit  The  Harbor,  watch 
the  boats  and  vessels  and  the  unkempt  but — at  a  distance 
—attractive  fishermen. 

"If  I  could  paint !"  she  exclaimed  a  hundred  times. 
"What  pictures  could  be  made  of  this  place  and  the 
people !" 

As  she  could  not  paint,  she  resolved  to  have  some 
pictures  of  the  place  anyway,  and  so  she  purchased  a 
small  camera.  As  soon  as  she  secured  the  camera,  she 
was  eager  to  "snap"  anything  and  everything  at  The 
Harbor. 

It  was  a  pleasant  afternoon  when  Inza,  accompanied  by 


The  Road  to  the  Harbor!  195 

May  Blossom,  started  out  for  The  Harbor,  taking  the 
little  camera  along.  They  chatted  away  enthusiastically, 
as  young  girls  will.  Their  talk  was  mainly  of  plates,  and 
lens,  and  films,  and  developing,  and  such  matters  as  in- 
terest amateur  photographers,  for  May  was  developing 
no  small  amount  of  enthusiasm  on  the  subject,  although  the 
real  knowledge  of  both  concerning  the  art  was  rather 
limited. 

At  the  first  point  where  they  could  obtain  a  good  view 
of  The  Harbor  they  paused  and  Inza  went  into  raptures 
over  the  scene. 

"Isn't  it  just  perfectly  lovely !"  she  cried. 

"Yes,"  nodded  May,  "it  is  pretty,  but  it  would  be  pret- 
tier if  it  were  not  for  that  little  huddle  of  shanties  down 
there." 

"Oh,  goodness !"  exclaimed  Inza,  in  fine  disdain.  "Why, 
that  is  what  finishes  out  the  picture!  That  is  the  very 
thing  that  gives  it  its  real  value." 

May  looked  doubtful. 

"It  may  be,"  she  admitted;  "but  it  seems  like  a  blot 
to  me.  I  love  nature,  but " 

"So  do  I.  If  those  huts  down  there  were  fine  houses 
it  would  ruin  the  picture,  but  those  shanties  are  so  pictur- 
esque !  And  the  fishermen  are  such  jaunty,  dirty,  care- 
less fellows!  Look  at  that  old  vessel  coming  into  the 
harbor  now.  Let's  hurry  down  where  I  can  get  a  picture 
of  her  as  she  swings  into  the  wharf,  for  she  is  not  going 
to  anchor  out  in  the  harbor." 

Down  the  road  ran  the  two  girls,  laughing  merrily.  The 
afternoon  was  bright  and  sunny,  and  their  hearts  were 
full  of  sunshine,  too. 

"If  Elsie  were  here  she  would  enjoy  this !"  panted  Inza. 
"She  was  always  so  much  interested  in  The  Harbor  and 
the  old  vessels  that  used  to  come  in  here.  I  suppose  it 


196          The  Road  to  the  Harbor. 

was  because  her  father  was  a  sea  captain.  She  was  quite 
a  sailor  herself." 

"Elsie  ?"  said  May.     "You  mean  Elsie  Bellwood  ?" 

"Of  course.  You  remember  her?  You  know  her  fa- 
ther's vessel  was  wrecked  over  in  the  Cove  on  Tiger 
Tooth  Ledge,  and  the  academy  boys  formed  a  life-saving 
crew,  headed  by  Frank  Merriwell,  and  saved  Elsie  and  all 
the  sailors." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  remember  all  about  it,"  said  May,  as  they 
slacked  up  a  little  from  their  running ;  "but  I  thought  you 
didn't  like  Elsie." 

"Thought  I  didn't  like  her?"  cried  Inza,  astonished. 
"Why,  I  took  her  home,  and  she  stayed  with  me  while  she 
Was  in  Fardale." 

"I  know  that,  but " 

"But  what?" 

May  was  confused,  and  she  seemed  to  be  troubled  to 
find  words  to  express  herself.  After  a  time  she  stam- 
mered : 

"Why,  she — she  was  so — so  friendly  with — with  Frank, 
you  know.  All  the  girls  said  she  was  trying  to  cut  you 
out." 

Inza's  eyes  flashed,  but  she  tossed  her  head  and 
laughed. 

"Is  that  it?  And  you  thought  I  did  not  like  her  be- 
cause she  was  friendly  with  Frank  Merriwell  ?  My  good- 
ness !  What  do  you  take  me  for  ? — excuse  the  slang ! 
Couldn't  help  it,  you  know." 

"Why,"  said  May,  "aren't  you  jealous  of  a  girl  who  tries 
to  cut  you  out  ?  I  think  I  would  be." 

"Well,  there  is  a  difference  in  girls,"  said  Inza,  some- 
what slowly.  "Besides  that,  Elsie  did  not  try  to  cut  me 
out." 

"She  didn't?" 

"No." 


The  Road  to  the  Harbor.  197 

"I  heard  so." 

"Don't  doubt  it." 

"But  Frank— Frank,  he " 

"He  was  smitten  by  Elsie's  sweet  face,  blue  eyes  and 
golden  hair,"  acknowledged  Inza. 

"What  about  Elsie— wasn't  she  smitten  on  Frank?" 

"Yes,  but  she  wasn't  to  blame  for  that!  I  think  a  girl 
would  be  silly  who  didn't  get  stuck  on  him !  So  there ! 
She  didn't  try  to  cut  me  out.  Instead  of  that,  she  tried 
to  keep  away  from  him.  Oh,  Elsie  has  the  most  honest 
little  heart!  One  night  she  told  me  how  much  she  liked 
Frank,  and  how  mean  she  felt.  But  she  said  she  could 
not  help  it,  and  she  cried  over  it  half  the  night.  I  told 
her  to  get  him — if  she  could.  I  told  her  the  field  was 
open,  and  I  would  withdraw  if  she  won  him." 

"My!"  cried  May.  "That's  not  much  like  you!  I 
shouldn't  think  such  a  thing  of  you!" 

Inza  laughed  shortly. 

"Just  because  I  am  quick-tempered  sometimes,  it  seems 
to  you  that  I  must  have  felt  like  tearing  her  to  pieces? 
Well,"  slowly,  "I  did  feel  a  little  that  way  at  first,  but 
when  I  saw  how  honest  she  was  and  how  bad  she  really 
felt  about  it,  my  heart  softened,  and  I  threw  the  field 
open  to  her.  I  did  not  mean  to  let  her  win  him  without 
a  struggle,  but  I  resolved  to  keep  still  and  let  her  have 
him  if  she  got  him." 

"But  she  couldn't  get  him !" 

"I  don't  know  about  that.     She  didn't  try." 

"Oh,  is  that  it?" 

"Yes.  She  hurried  her  father  away  from  Fardale  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  she  told  me  she'd  never  see  him 
again." 

"Well,  she  must  be  different  from  most  girls !" 

"She  is." 


198  The  Road  to  the;  Harbor. 

"And  she  never  wrote  to  him — never  tried  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  him  afterward?" 

"Never  till  they  met  again  by  accident  down  in  Florida. 
He  saved  her  from  a  frightful  danger  down  there,  and 
they  fell  awfully  in  love  with  each  other.  He  made  her 
promise  to  write,  and  she  did  so  a  few  times." 

"Oh,  I  thought  she  would !"  cried  May,  triumphantly. 
"I  didn't  think  she  could  keep  her  promise  to  you !" 

"But  she  wrote  and  told  me  all  about  it,"  smiled  Inza, 
with  equal  triumph. 

"She  did?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you  answered  her  letter  ?  Gracious !  What  did 
you  say  to  her?" 

"Told  her  to  go  in  and  win — if  she  could !  I  tell  you,  I 
don't  want  a  fellow  that  thinks  more  of  another  girl  than 
he  does  of  me.  If  I  had  such  a  fellow,  and  I  suspected  it, 
I'd  fire  him  over  quick." 

"And  she  didn't  succeed  in  winning  him  from  you — 
that  is  plain  enough." 

"Well,"  said  Inza,  doubtfully,  "that  may  seem  plain 
enough  to  you,  but  there  is  nothing  certain  about  it.  Don't 
ever  breathe  a  word  of  what  I  tell  you !  I'm  afraid  Frank 
thinks  more  of  her  to-day  than  he  does  of  me." 

"Gracious  goodness !" 

May  was  astonished.  She  looked  at  Inza  to  see  if  the 
girl  was  joking,  but  Inza  was  perfectly  in  earnest. 

"When  I  am  with  Frank,"  said  Inza,  "he  seems  to 
forget  Elsie.  But  I  am  not  deceived.  When  he  is  with 
her,  I  am  forgotten.  Now,  what  I  would  like  is  to  settle 
which  of  us  has  the  stronger  pull  with  him.  More  slang ! 
Got  so  it  slips  out  when  I  don't  notice." 

"The  stronger  pull?"  came  from  May.  "How  would 
you  put  it  to  test?" 

"If  Elsie  were  here  in  Fardale  now,  we'd  see  who  could 


The  Road  to  the  Harbor.  199 

win  him.  I'd  make  her  do  her  best  to  get  him  away  from 
me.  If  she  succeeded,  all  right;  if  I  succeeded,  I'd  make 
her  promise  never  to  have  anything  to  do  with  him  again 
in  any  way — even  to  speak  to  him,  if  she  could  help  it." 

"And  what  if  she  won?"  gasped  May.  "Would  you — 
would  you " 

"Make  a  similar  pledge — yes !    And  I'd  keep  it,  too  1" 

May  looked  at  Inza  in  wonder. 

"But  you  would  hate  her?" 

"Not  in  the  least!  I  wouldn't  permit  myself  to  hate 
her." 

"Well,  you  would  hate  Frank  Merriwell?" 

"Never!  Sometimes  I  may  seem  angry  with  him,  and 
all  that,  but  I  do  not  forget  that  he  has  saved  my  life  more 
than  once.  I  do  not  forget  how  he  threw  himself  in  front 
of  a  mad  dog  to  protect  me,  and  fought  the  beist  bare- 
handed till  Farmer  Snodd  shot  the  rabid  creature !" 

"Oh,  I  remember  that !"  cried  May.  "I  saw  it !  It  was 
terrible !" 

"It  was  a  most  heroic  act!  He  just  wrapped  hi-s  coat 
round  his  arm,  and  when  the  jaws  of  the  dog  set  into  that 
coat,  the  creature's  teeth  did  not  reach  his  flesh.  Then 
he  held  the  frothing,  snarling  creature  by  the  throat  till 
John  Snodd  came  up  and  fired  both  barrels  of  his  gun  into 
the  dog." 

"And  I  fainted  when  I  saw  Frank  fall  down  with  the 
dead  dog  on  top  of  him !"  cried  May.  "How  everybody 
praised  him  for  that!" 

"Then  you  remember  how  he  saved  me  from  death  in 
front  of  the  express  at  the  crossing  in  Fardale?" 

"Yes." 

"That  was  not  all,  either.  He  rescued  me  from  ruffians 
in  New  Orleans,  and  saved  the  lives  of  myself  and  my 
father  in  London,  when  a  lighted  bomb  was  thrown  right 
into  the  room  where  we  were.  He  picked  it  up,  all  smok- 


aoo  The  Road  to  the  Harbor. 

ing  as  it  was,  and  flung  it  out  of  the  window  again.  It 
exploded  before  it  struck  in  the  street." 

May  gave  a  little  scream. 

"Oh,  he  doesn't  fear  anything!"  came  proudly  from 
Inza.  "And  he  helped  me  escape  from  a  horrid  odious 
old  Englishman  that  my  father  wanted  me  to  marry. 
Think  I  could  hate  him?  Oh,  no!  No  matter  what 
happened  to  separate  us,  I  should  not  hate  Frank  Merri- 
well." 

They  came  to  the  first  of  the  fishermen's  huts.  May 
happened  to  turn  about  and  look  back.  A  gasp  of  sur- 
prise and  fear  escaped  her  lips,  and  she  clutched  Inza's 
arm. 

"We  are  followed !"  she  exclaimed. 

"Followed?"  said  Inza,  quickly.     "By  whom?" 

She  looked  back  and  saw  two  persons  coming  swiftly 
down  the  road,  as  if  seeking  to  overtake  them. 

"One  is  Rupert  Reynolds !"  said  May,  tremblingly.  "I 
would  know  him  anywhere !  Will  he  never  let  me  alone !" 

"And  the  other  is  Ed  Clair/'  said  Inza.  "I  used  to 
know  him  when  we  lived  here,  but  he  was  a  young  man 
then,  and  I  was  a  small  girl.  They  call  him  Elegant  Ed, 
and  say  he  is  a  gambler.  He  and  Reynolds  hitch  up  well 
together." 

"Oh,  can't  we  get  away  from  them  somewhere !  They 
frighten  me  so!  And  this  is  such  a  place!  Now  that 
we  are  out  of  the  village,  they  will  try  to  force  their  at- 
tentions upon  us." 

"Let  them  try  it!"  flashed  Inza.  "I  am  not  afraid  of 
them,  and  they  will  get  into  trouble  if  they  do  not  let  us 
alone!" 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE   GIRL   ON   THE   VESSEL, 

The  girls  were  panting  when  they  reached  the  old  wharf 
toward  which  the  vessel  was  heading.  May  looked  around 
and  then,  pressing  her  trembling  hands  together,  cried : 

"There  is  no  place  to  hide  here !" 

"Hide!"  came  scornfully  from  the  lips  of  the  dark- 
haired  girl.  "Why  should  we  hide  ?  Think  I  would  hide 
from  those  fellows?  Not  much!" 

"What  can  we  do?" 

"Mind  our  own  business  and  pay  no  attention  to  them 
if  they  come  here." 

"They  are  coming!" 

"Let  'em  come.  If  they  bother  us  we'll  call  on  some 
of  the  fishermen." 

"Oh,  but  all  the  fishermen  look  like  ruffians !" 

"Just  the  same,  I  don't  believe  they  would  keep  still  and 
let  those  fellows  trouble  us." 

May  was  not  reassured,  but  she  sat  down  on  some  lum- 
ber, while  Inza  prepared  to  take  a  picture  of  the  schooner 
as  she  swung  in  to  the  wharf. 

Down  came  one  of  the  vessel's  sails  with  a  rattling  of 
trucks,  and  Inza  uttered  a  cry  of  disappointment. 

"That's  real  mean !"  she  said.  "Why,  I  was  just  going 
to  snap  her.  I  wanted  to  take  her  with  all  her  sails  up." 

The  sailors  could  be  seen  at  work  on  the  deck  of  the 
schooner.  A  man  with  a  white  beard  was  directing  their 
movements. 

"Hurry  up,  Inza.,"  said  May,  "and  you  will  be  able  to 
get  a  picture  before  any  more  sails  come  down." 


202  The  Girl  on  the  Vessel. 

"Yes,  hurry  up,  my  dear,"  said  a  laughing,  musical 
voice.  "She  will  get  too  near  if  you  don't." 

Both  girls  looked  up.  Peering  over  the  pile  of  lum- 
ber was  Elegant  Ed.  He  lifted  his  hat  with  a  show  of 
great  politeness. 

Just  then  Rupert  Reynolds  appeared  by  Ed's  side,  and 
he  also  smiled  and  lifted  his  hat,  a  straw  affair  with  a 
dashy  ribbon  around  it  for  a  band. 

"Ah,  there !"  he  chirped,  in  a  manner  that  was  extremely 
offensive. 

"Stay  there !"  Inza  instantly  flung  back. 

Elegant  Ed  laughed,  while  Rupert  scowled  a  bit, 
saying : 

"Oh,  my!  isn't  she  pert!" 

"Oh,  Inza !"  said  May,  rising,  "let's  go  away  1" 

"Keep  still,"  said  Inza.  "If  they  trouble  us,  I  know 
of  some  chaps  who  will  just  whip  the  life  out  of  them. 
(We'll  only  have  to  tell  Frank  Merriwell." 

Reynolds  gave  an  exclamation  of  scorn. 

"Oh,  you'll  find  Frank  Merriwell  is  not  so  many !  He 
doesn't  run  the  universe !  He  has  his  gang  with  him,  we 
know,  but  there  are  a  few  fellows  in  Fardale  village  who 
would  like  to  get  at  him  and  his  gang.  All  we  want  is 
a  good  opportunity.  We  are  just  looking  for  it,  and " 

Elegant  Ed  cut  Rupert  short,  saying  something  to  him 
in  a  low  tone,  and  then  turned  to  the  g*irls. 

"We  are  not  here  to  trouble  you,  young  ladies,  but  to 
protect  you." 

"We  don't  need  your  protection,  sir !"  flung  back  Inza. 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  about  that !"  said  Clair,  quickly. 
"The  Harbor  is  not  a  safe  place  for  girls  like  you  to  visit 
alone." 

"Fudge !" 

"It  is  true,"  protested  Ed.    "These  fishermen  are  pretty 


The  Girl  on  the  Vessel.  20} 

rude  at  times,  and  there  is  no  telling  what  notion  they 
might  get  into  their  heads." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Reynolds,  hastening  to  support 
the  statement  of  his  companion,  with  the  view  of  alarm- 
ing the  girls,  if  possible.  "We  saw  you  coming  down  this 
way,  and  Mr.  Clair  said  it  was  our  duty  to  come  along  and 
look  out  for  you,  so  we " 

Elegant  Ed  cut  him  short  again. 

"I  was  surprised  to  see  you  coming  here,"  he  said,  in 
his  polished  way,  his  voice  being  soft  and  musical.  "Mr. 
Reynolds  tells  me  you  come  here  often,  and  come  alone. 
You  do  not  realize  your  danger.  Why,  a  man  disap- 
peared here  this  last  spring,  and — well,  he  disappeared, 
that's  all." 

"He  was  murdered,"  put  in  Reynolds,  before  the  dandy 
of  Fardale  could  check  him. 

May  screamed  a  little,  but  Inza  simply  said : 

"I  know  all  about  that.  The  man  was  drunk  and  got 
into  a  quarrel.  You  cannot  frighten  us  into  accepting 
you  as  protectors  by  telling  us  that  story.  So  yon  may  as 
well  go  right  away  and  let  us  alone.  If  we  need  protec- 
tion, I  am  sure  we  would  prefer  the  protection  of  these 
fishermen." 

Then  she  turned  to  May,  saying  firmly: 

"Don't  speak  to  them — don't  look  at  them.  We  will  not 
have  anything  to  do  with  them.  If  they  trouble  us,  we'll 
tell  some  of  those  sailors  when  the  vessel  comes  in  here 
to  the  wharf,  and  the  sailors  will  throw  them  overboard." 

May's  fears  were  not  quieted,  but  she  turned  from  the 
fellows  who  had  followed  them,  and  tried  to  give  them 
no  further  attention. 

Clair  and  Reynolds  held  a  hurried  consultation  in  low- 
spoken  words,  and  then  came  round  the  pile  of  lumber. 
They  came  near  the  girls,  but  pretended  to  be  greatly  in- 


204  The  Girl  on  the  Vessel. 

terested  in  the  approaching  vessel.  Clair  was  heard  to 
say: 

"It's  rather  hard  to  be  misunderstood  in  such  a  manner, 
but  we  will  stay  here  and  look  out  for  them.  They  are 
young,  and  some  of  these  low  ruffians  may  bother  them. 
All  we  can  do  is  keep  watch  of  them." 

Inza's  lip  curled,  and  she  flashed  a  derisive  look  toward 
the  backs  of  the  gambler  and  his  young  companion. 

"That's  a  bluff,  May,  to  make  us  think  we  really  are  in 
danger,"  she  said.  "They  think  we  will  relent  when  we 
see  how  ready  they  are  to  protect  us,  even  though  we  have 
given  them  the  throw  down." 

"I  am  sorry  we  came  to-day!"  murmured  May. 

"I'm  not !  I  am  going  to  take  a  picture  of  that  vessel 
now.  It  is  my  last  chance.  Then  we  will  go  around  Phe 
Harbor  and  get  some  more  pictures." 

"They  will  follow  us." 

"Then  I  shall  speak  to  some  of  the  fishermen,  and  I 
rather  think  they  will  be  taken  care  of." 

Inza  was  on  the  point  of  taking  a  picture,  having  focused 
her  camera,  when  a  girl  appeared  on  deck  and  came  for- 
ward. 

"Jove!"  exclaimed  Clair.  "There  is  a  little  peach  o» 
the  vessel!" 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Reynolds.  "She's  just  my  kind 
— pink  cheeks  and  golden  hair.  Bet  she  has  blue  eyes! 
She  is  a  peach!" 

Inza  looked  up  and  glanced  toward  the  vessel.  The  girl 
had  reached  the  forward  starboard  rail  and  was  gazing  to- 
ward the  wharf. 

"My!"  cried  Inza  Burrage,  nearly  dropping  her 
camera. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  May. 

"Look!"  came  excitedly  from  the  dark-haired  girl. 
"That  girl— there  on  the  vessel  1" 


The  Girl  on  the  Vessel.  205 

"Yes." 

"Know  her?" 

"No." 

"I  do !  I  am  sure  I  can't  be  mistaken !  It  is — as  true 
as  I  live,  it  is  Elsie  Bellwood !" 

"Elsie  Bellwood !" 

May  gasped  the  name,  and  then  she  clapped  her  hands 
and  began  to  dance. 

"It  is !    It  is !"  she  cried.     "You  are  right,  Inza !" 

In  another  moment  Inza  had  put  down  the  camera,  all 
thought  of  getting  a  picture  having  vanished)  and  was  ex- 
citedly fluttering  her  handkerchief. 

"Elsie!"  she  cried,  her  voice  ringing  over  the  water. 
"Elsie !  Elsie !" 

Then  the  girl  on  the  schooner  suddenly  grew  excited. 
She  tore  off  her  hat  and  fluttered  it  above  her  golden  head, 
dancing  and  laughing. 

"It  is  Elsie — it  is !"  came  from  Inza.  "She  recognizes 
me !  See  how  glad  she  is !  That  old  man  with  the  white 
beard  is  Capt.  Bellwood!  That  is  his  vessel!  To  think 
of  her  coming  here  just  as  we  were  speaking  of  her! 
It's  just  perfectly  lovely!" 

Inza's  delight  was  not  assumed.  She  was  overjoyed  to 
see  Elsie  again. 

Ant.  Elsie  was  so  delighted  that  she  leaned  away  out 
over  the  rail  to  call : 

"Is  that  you,  Inza  Burrage?    Can  it  be  you?" 

"Yes,  Elsie — yes !"  Inza  cried  in  turn.  "Oh,  I'm  so  glad 
to  see  you !  Oh,  Elsie  Bellwood !" 

She  felt  like  cheering  like  a  boy.  She  even  started  to 
cheer,  but  the  cheer  was  suddenly  stopped  by  a  cry  of 
horror. 

For,  leaning  over  the  rail,  Elsie  Bellwood  lost  her  bal- 
ance, and,  with  a  scream,  fell  overboard.  She  struck  the 
water  with  a  splash  and  disappeared  below  the  surface. 


206  The  Girl  on  the  Vessel. 

May  Blossom  shrieked  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  while  Inza  seemed  stricken  dumb. 

"Ye  gods !"  burst  from  Reynolds.  "The  little  peach  is 
overboard !  Where's  there  a  boat,  Clair  ?  We  must  pull 
her  out!" 

But  Ed  Clair  did  not  wait  for  a  boat.  He  flung  aside 
his  silk  hat  and  cane,  he  tore  off  his  coat,  and  then  he 
leaped  headlong  from  the  wharf,  diving  into  the  water. 

Ed  came  up  quickly  and  swam  off  toward  the  vessel, 
upon  the  deck  of  which  the  sailors  were  running  about, 
snouting  hoarsely  to  one  another. 

Clair  was  a  fine  swimmer,  and,  despite  his  clothing,  he 
made  good  progress  through  the  water.  He  was  watching 
for  the  golden  head  of  the  unfortunate  girl  to  appear  above 
the  water. 

It  came  up,  and  Elsie  cried  out,  chokingly,  then  it  dis- 
appeared. But  Ed  Clair  went  toward  the  spot  where  he 
had  seen  the  girl's  head  for  a  moment,  and  he  swam  with 
all  his  strength. 

When  Elsie  rose  to  the  surface  the  second  time,  the 
dandy  was  near,  and  he  made  a  lunge  for  her,  caught  hold 
of  her,  held  her  up,  beginning  to  talk  to  her  in  a  re- 
assuring manner. 

"Don't  struggle,"  he  said.  "Be  quiet,  and  I  will  save 
you.  They  are  letting  down  a  boat  from  the  schooner. 
They  will  have  us  out  of  the  water  in  a  moment." 

On  the  wharf  Rupert  Reynolds  was  grinding  his  teeth 
and  cursing. 

"Look  at  the  fellow!"  he  muttered,  savagely.  "He 
thought  to  jump  in  there  and  save  her  that  way,  and  it's 
ten  to  one  she  will  be  all  broken  up  over  him.  I  remem- 
ber something  about  Elsie  Bellwood.  All  the  boys  were 
crazy  over  her.  She  is  the  prettiest  girl  I  ever  saw,  but 
she  didn't  even  look  at  me  when  she  was  here  before.  I 


The  Girl  on  the  Vessel.  207 

suppose  it  was  because  I  didn't  form  one  of  the  gang  that 
saved  her  from  the  wreck. 

"And  here  I  have  lost  a  splendid  chance  to  make  myself 
solid  with  her !  I  lost  it  because  I  did  not  want  to  spoil 
my  clothes ;  but  Clair  didn't  seem  to  care  a  hang  about  his 
clothes.  He's  the  most  reckless  fellow  I  ever  saw,  any- 
way. Doesn't  seem  to  care  for  anything.  I  don't  believe 
he  is  afraid  of  Frank  Merriwell,  even !" 

Reynolds  muttered  the  final  words  as  if  it  were  the 
very  acme  of  courage  not  to  fear  Merriwell. 

In  silence  Inza  watched  Ed  Clair  swim  out  and  get 
hold  of  the  girl  in  the  water.  May  was  on  her  knees,  her 
clasped  hands  and  moving  lips  telling  that  she  was  praying. 

Clair  talked  to  Elsie,  holding  her  off  and  keeping  her 
from  clutching  him.  He  saw  the  boat  let  down  from  the 
vessel  and  manned,  he  saw  it  come  toward  them,  and  he 
was  well  satisfied  with  himself  and  what  he  had  done. 

"This  Merriwell  is  not  the  only  pebble  on  the  beach," 
he  thought.  "There  are  others  who  can  do  a  thing  or 
two." 

As  the  boat  came  near,  he  cried : 

"Steady,  my  hearties — don't  run  us  down !  Never  mind 
me ;  take  the  young  lady  out  first.  I  can  swim  ashore  all 
right.  I  swim  around  with  my  clothes  on  almost  every 
day.  It's  a  little  way  I  have.  Can't  bother  to  take  off  my 
togs  when  I  want  a  bath." 

"Well,  you're  a  cool  one!"  said  one  of  the  sailors,  as 
Elsie  was  lifted  into  the  boat. 

"I'm  a  trifle  cooler  than  I  was  before  I  jumped  in,"  said 
Clair.  "Going  to  take  me  into  the  boat  ?  All  right ;  but 
you  needn't  bother.  I  can  take  care  of  myself." 

"Lift  him  in,"  directed  the  shaking  voice  of  old  Capt. 
Bellwood,  who  was  holding  his  child  in  his  arms.  "Lift  in 
the  young  man  who  saved  the  life  of  my  darling !  I  want 
to  see  him — I  want  to  thank  him !" 


The  Girl  on  the  Vessel. 

"Never  mind  the  thanks,  cap'n,"  laughed  Ed,  as  he 
was  dragged  dripping  into  the  boat.  "I  am  more  than  re- 
paid by  the  pleasure  of  having  rescued  such  a  charming 
young  lady  as  your  daughter  seems  to  be." 

There  was  a  breath  too  much  of  flattery  in  his  words 
and  manner,  but  the  old  captain  was  ready  enough  to  over- 
look that. 

"You  shall  come  aboard,  sir,"  he  said,  "where  you  shall 
dry  your  clothes  and  have  a  nip  of  something  *o  warm 
you." 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Ed;  "if  you  have  some  real  good 
stuff,  skipper,  I  shan't  mind  taking  a  nip.  The  water  was 
cold,  to  be  sure." 

So  he  was  taken  on  board  the  schooner,  and  Elsie  Bell- 
wood,  rescued  from  one  danger,  had  fallen  into  still  greater 
peril. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

GIRL    FRIENDS    MEET. 

"Capt.  Bellwood,"  said  Elegant  Ed,  as  he  sat  in  the 
cabin  of  the  schooner,  "there  is  nothing  like  a  little  ad- 
venture now  and  then  to  break  the 'monotony  of  life.  I 
was  delighted  with  the  opportunity  to  rescue  from  the 
water  a  beautiful  girl  like  your  daughter,  for  certainly  she 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  it  has  ever  been  my  for- 
tune to  see." 

"And  she  is  as  good  as  she  is  beautiful,"  declared  the  old 
skipper,  his  eyes  glowing.  "She  is  the  light  of  my  old 
age !  If  harm  should  come  to  her,  it  would  kill  me !" 

He  placed  glasses  on  the  table  and  took  a  black  bottle 
from  a  locker. 

"This  is  Jamaica  rum,"  he  said.  "Here,  Jim,"  calling 
the  cabin  boy,  "bring  some  hot  water  from  the  galley." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Jim,  skurrying  away  and  quickly  re- 
turning with  hot  water. 

"A  hot  toddy  is  what  you  need,  young  man,"  declared 
the  captain,  as  he  mixed  the  drink.  "It  will  warm  you." 

The  schooner  was  making  fast  to  the  wharf,  and  Ru- 
pert Reynolds  came  on  board,  bringing  Clair's  hat,  coat 
and  cane.  He  came  right  down  into  the  captain's  cabin, 
without  waiting  for  an  invitation. 

"Friend  of  mine,  Mr.  Reynolds,  Capt.  Bellwood,"  said 
the  dandy  of  Fardale.  "Perhaps  he  would  like  a  nip." 

"Eh?"  said  the  captain.  "He's  rather  young.  I  don't 
believe  in  giving  liquor  to  youngsters." 

"Oh,  he's  old  enough,"  laughed  Clair.  "It's  all  right, 
captain;  give  him  something,  and  I  will  be  responsible." 

"Well,  if  you  say  it's  all  right,"  said  Justin  Bellwood,  re- 
luctantly, "I'll  give  him  a  drink,  but  it  doesn't  seem  right." 


210  Girl  Friends  Meet. 

"The  old  fool !"  muttered  Rupert,  behind  the  skipper's 
back. 

Reynolds  was  not  in  a  very  good  humor,  having  lost  an 
opportunity  to  do  something  that  would  make  him  seem 
heroic.  He  was  sour  toward  Clair,  but  dared  not  show  it. 

Elegant  Ed  was  in  a  jolly  mood.  He  joked  and  told 
stories  till  he  had  the  skipper  laughing  heartily,  and  Capt. 
Bellwood  thought  the  young  man  who  had  rescued  his 
daughter  was  a  very  fine  fellow. 

Rupert  kept  still  and  watched  Qair  sullenly  and  jeal- 
ously. He  could  see  that  Ed  was  doing  his  best  to  get 
into  the  good  graces  of  Capt.  Bellwood,  and  was  succeed- 
ing finely. 

After  a  time  Reynolds  became  tired  of  it  and  urged 
Clair  to  go  back  to  town;  but  Ed  was  not  ready  to  go 
then,  and  told  him  so.  Then  Rupert  said  he  was  going, 
and  left. 

"That  fellow  is  too  slick !"  muttered  Reynolds,  as  he 
went  ashore.  "He  has  the  old  skipper  on  the  string,  and 
he'll  make  Capt.  Bellwood  think  him  the  finest  fellow  in 
the  world.  He  is  working  to  cut  some  ice  with  the  cap- 
tain's daughter,  and  it's  ten  to  one  he  succeeds." 

Considering  himself  a  "masher,"  it  incensed  Rupert 
to  have  his  companion  get  ahead  of  him  in  such  a  manner. 
ATRupert  had  said,  Elsie  was  "just  his  kind,"  for  he  ad- 
mired any  pretty  girl  with  blue  eyes  and  golden  hair. 

Inza  and  May  were  waiting  on  the  wharf  to  see  Elsie. 
When  Rupert  came  off,  they  longed  to  ask  him  about  her, 
but  would  not  do  so.  They  saw  him  leave  the  wharf  and 
take  the  road  toward  the  village. 

"I  am  going  on  board  that  vessel,  May,"  declared  Inza, 
for  the  tenth  time.  "Come  along.  What  is  the  use  to  be 
afraid.  It's  Capt.  Bellwood's  vessel,  and  those  sailors 
won't  harm  us." 

One  of  the  men  heard  her  words,  and  said : 


Girl  Friends  Meet.  211 

"Lord  love  ye,  miss,  of  course  we  wouldn't  hurt  ye! 
Come  right  on  board.  I'll  help  ye." 

May's  timidity  was  overcome  at  last,  and  the  girls  were 
assisted  on  board  the  schooner.  The  sailor  showed  them 
the  captain's  cabin,  explaining  that  Elsie  had  a  room  that 
opened  into  that  cabin. 

Rather  timidly  the  girls  descended  the  stairs,  but  the 
old  skipper  welcomed  them  and  invited  them  in. 

"Don't  you  know  me,  Capt.  Bellwood?"  asked  Inza. 

"Why,  seems  to  me  you  do  look  natural,"  said  the  old 
salt ;  "but  I  don't  seem  to  locate  ye." 

"I  am  the  girl  Elsie  stopped  with  in  Fardale  that  time 
when  your  vessel  was  wrecked  on  Tiger  Tooth.  I  am  Inza 
Burrage." 

"Well,  well,  well!"  cried  the  old  man,  bluffly,  as  he 
caught  hold  of  her  hands.  "It's  powerful  glad  I  am  to 
clap  my  peepers  on  ye  ag'in !  You're  handsomer  than 
ever.  Elsie's  always  talking  about  ye.  She  thinks  more 
of  you  than  any  other  gal  in  the  whole  world.  Won't  she 
be  pleased !  Well,  well,  well !" 

"How  is  she?" 

"All  right,  thanks  to  this  young  gentleman.  She's  been 
changing  her  clothes,  but  she  ought  to  have  them  changed 
by  this  time,  and " 

The  door  to  Elsie's  room  opened,  and  Elsie  herself  came 
out  with  a  rush  and  a  glad  cry.  The  two  girls  flew  into 
each  other's  arms,  embraced,  kissed,  laughed  and  cried, 
as  girls  will. 

Elegant  Ed  smiled  and  stroked  his  light  mustache  as  he 
looked  on,  while  Capt.  Bellwood's  eyes  sparkled  with  the 
pleasure  he  felt. 

May  and  Elsie  look  a  turn  at  greeting  each  other  effu- 
sively, and  the  girls  jabbered  away  excitedly,  all  three  of 
them  trying  to  talk  at  once. 

"Bless  their  innocent  hearts !"  said  Capt.  Bellwood. 


212  Girl  Friends  Meet. 

"They're  all  peaches,"  thought  Ed  Clair;  "but  there  is 
something  about  the  old  fellow's  daughter  that  makes  me 
like  her  better  than  the  others.  I  am  going  to  capture  the 
little  daisy,  too!" 

And  so,  while  he  was  getting  on  the  best  of  terms  with 
Capt.  Bellvvood,  he  was  plotting  in  his  heart  to  do  the  old 
man  the  greatest  injury  possible. 

Elsie  and  Inza  had  so  many  things  to  talk  about  that 
they  could  not  seem  to  think  of  much  of  anything  at  all. 
Over  and  over  they  repeated  that  they  had  so  many  things 
to  say,  and  still  they  did  not  seem  to  say  any  of  them. 

At  last,   however,   Inza  cried : 

"Oh,  Elsie — you  can't  guess  who  is  in  Fardale — I  know 
you  can't !" 

"Then  I  shall  not  try."  said  the  captain's  daughter. 

She  had  a  sweet  face,  and  her  laughter  was  like  the 
softest  ripple  of  music.  Her  eyes  were  those  of  an  inno- 
cent child. 

Clair  noted  all  those  things,  and  he  thought  how  easy 
it  would  be  to  make  her  believe  he  was  wildly  infatuated 
with  her. 

"She  will  drop  into  the  net  easily,"  he  thought. 

"Just  guess  once,"  urged  Inza. 

So  Elsie  guessed. 

"Wrong !"  cried  Inza,  laughing.  "I  know  you  couldn't 
guess,  and  still  it  is  some  one  you  know  very  well — some 
one  you  think  a  great  deal  of." 

"Tell  me!"  urged  Elsie,  eagerly,  "do  tell  me,  Inza. 
Who  is  it?" 

"Frank  Merriwell !" 

Elsie  gave  a  little  smothered  cry,  her  bosom  rose  and 
fell  with  excitement,  and  her  face  flushed  with  delight. 
The  look  in  her  eyes  was  one  of  untold  surprise  and 
pleasure. 

"Frank!"  she  said,  softly;  "Frank  Merriwell?" 


Girl  Friends  Meet.  213 

"Yes,"  nodded  Inza,  just  the  least  trace  of  a  shadow 
coming  to  her  heart  as  she  noted  the  intensity  of  Elsie's 
delight.  "He  is  here  with  some  of  the  old  academy  boys 
and  some  college  fellows  from  Yale.  They  are  camping 
not  far  from  the  academy." 

Ed  Clair  was  noting  everything,  and  his  teeth  came 
together  with  a  click  as  he  beheld  Elsie's  show  of  pleasure 
on  learning  of  Frank's  presence  in  Fardale. 

"So  she,  too,  knows  that  fellow !"  thought  the  dandy. 
"Well,  this  Merriwell  seems  to  have  the  inside  track,  but 
he  may  be  outwitted.  He  can't  hold  both  of  those  girls." 

That  thought  rilled  him  with  satisfaction,  and  it  was  im- 
mediately followed  by  another: 

"Perhaps  the  appearance  of  this  girl  with  the  golden 
hair  may  be  a  good  thing.  If  it's  worked  right,  the  two 
girls  might  be  played  against  him  so  that  he  would  lose 
his  hold  on  both  of  them." 

His  brain  teemed  with  plots  to  bring  about  that  result. 

After  a  little  Elsie's  face  clouded,  all  the  look  of  joy 
seeming  to  go  out  of  it.  In  her  frank  way,  she  said : 

"I  don't  know  that  Frank  will  be  pleased  to  see  me, 
Inza." 

Inza  started,  showing  astonishment. 

"Why,  how  is  that?"  she  asked. 

"He — he  did  not  answer  the  last  letters  I  wrote  him," 
declared  Elsie. 

"Then  he  never  received  them !"  came  quickly  from 
Inza.  "I  am  sure  of  that.  Had  he  received  them,  he 
would  have  answered  them." 

"You  may  be  right,"  said  Elsie,  with  an  air  of  relief. 

But  it  was  plain  her  childish,  innocent  heart  was  full  of 
doubts. 

"Give  me  the  opportunity,  and  I  will  convince  her  that 
Frank  Merriwell  doesn't  care  a  snap  for  her,"  thought  Ed 
Clair.  "She  will  be  easy." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

GREATEST  SURPRISE  OF  ALL. 

Elegant  Ed  did  not  let  any  grass  grow  under  his  feet, 
for  he  felt  that  he  must  move  quickly  if  he  got  ahead  of 
Frank  Merriwell.  One  thing  he  feared  was  that  Inza 
would  say  something  against  him  to  Elsie,  and  so  to  pre- 
vent that  as  far  as  possible  he  did  not  give  her  any  im- 
mediate opportunity. 

Inza  told  Elsie  there  was  to  be  a  show  in  Fardale  that 
evening,  and  urged  her  to  come  over  and  go  with  her. 
May  could  not  go.  She  did  not  tell  Elsie  that  she  had 
been  invited  to  go  with  Frank,  as  she  wished  to  hold  that 
back  as  a  surprise.  She  felt  that  Frank  would  be  delighted 
to  take  them  both.  She  knew  him  well  enough  to  feel 
perfectly  safe  in  inviting  Elsie. 

Elsie  promised  to  come  over  to  the  village  and  attend 
the  show.  She  set  the  time  when  she  would  come  over. 

Then  Clair  offered  to  send  for  a  team  to  take  Inza  and 
May  back  to  the  village,  but  they  declined  the  favor. 
He  had  shown  such  promptness  in  rescuing  Elsie  that  they 
were  somewhat  softened  toward  him,  but  still  there  was 
nothing  like  a  feeling  of  friendship  toward  him. 

Inza  resolved  that  at  another  time  she  would  tell  Elsie 
just  what  kind  of  a  fellow  Elegant  Ed  was,  but  for  the 
present  she  held  her  peace. 

Clair  remained  with  Capt.  Bellwood  until  after  Inza  and 
May  had  departed.  Then  he  took  leave  of  the  old  skipper 
and  his  pretty  daughter. 

By  that  time,  under  the  warming  influence  of  hot  toddy, 
Capt.  Bellwood  was  a  trifle  mellow.  He  wrung  Elegant 
Ed's  hand,  saying,  with  bluff  sincerity : 


Greatest  Surprise  of  All.  215 

"Young  man,  you  will  be  welcome  on  board  my  vessel 
any  time.  I  shall  not  forget  what  you  have  done  to-day, 
and  you  may  feel  certain  of  that.  Elsie  will  not  forget  it 
either,  will  ye,  gal?" 

"Most  certainly  not,"  was  the  smiling  answer.  "Mr. 
Clair  will  be  welcome  here  as  long  as  we  remain  in 
port." 

"Thank  you,"  bowed  Ed.  "I  shall  avail  myself  of  your 
kindness,  for  I  often  come  over  to  The  Harbor.  The 
scenery  over  here  is  attractive,  you  know,  and  I  admire 
beautiful  scenery — and  beautiful  girls,"  he  added,  looking 
straight  into  Elsie's  eyes. 

Something  in  that  look  brought  a  flush  to  her  cheeks, 
and  she  felt  repulsed  for  a  moment.  Then,  inwardly,  she 
rebuked  herself  for  it.  Surely  he  was  a  splendid  fellow, 
for,  he  had  saved  her  life.  And  he  was  handsome;  no 
one  could  deny  that. 

He  took  her  hand  as  he  bade  her  good-night.  The  hand 
he  held  was  warm,  and  plump,  and  soft.  It  was  a  shapely 
hand,  and  he  gave  it  a  slight  pressure  that  added  to  the 
color  of  her  cheeks. 

"Good-night,"  he  said,  again.  And  then,  as  if  struck 
by  a  sudden  thought,  he  added :  "I  am  going  to  take  my 
team  out  directly  after  supper.  I  should  be  delighted  to 
take  you  over  to  Miss  Burrage's.  May  I  come  for  you?" 

Elsie  hesitated,  but  her  father  quickly  said : 

"Why,  certain.  If  it  won't  be  too  much  trouble,  you 
may  take  her  over." 

"No  trouble  at  all,"  said  Clair.    "I  will  be  on  hand." 

He  left  The  Harbor  whistling,  his  silk  hat  set  jauntily 
on  his  head,  twirling  his  cane.  He  felt  well  satisfied  with 
himself,  despite  the  fact  that  his  clothing  was  still  wet. 

"I  have  laid  my  pipes  well,"  he  told  himself.  "Now,  I 
must  not  make  a  slip.  I  rather  think  I  can  carry  this 


216  Greatest  Surprise  of  All. 

thing  through  all  right.  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Mr.  Frank  Merri- 
well,  you  are  slick  with  the  girls,  but  there  are  others." 

At  the  appointed  time  that  evening  he  drove  over  to 
The  Harbor  with  a  handsome  turnout  and  a  span.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  manner  that  was  decidedly  "swell,"  for 
he  was  bound  to  add  to  the  impression  he  fancied  he  had 
made  with  Elsie. 

"If  the  old  cove  wants  to  come  over  with  us,  there  won't 
be  any  room,"  chuckled  Ed.  "Of  course  I  didn't  count 
on  him." 

But  he  met  Capt.  Bellwood  on  the  way  to  the  village. 
The  captain  greeted  him  heartily,  and  told  him  Elsie 
would  be  waiting  for  him. 

So  it  happened  that  Ed  Clair  brought  Elsie  Bellwood 
into  Fardale  village.  To  his  surprise,  she  was  not  only 
dressed  in  a  tasty  manner,  but  her  clothes  were  stylish 
and  up-to-date.  He  was  well  satisfied  as  he  handed  her 
into  the  carriage,  for  he  saw  that  no  one  could  guy  him 
about  the  sort  of  a  girl  he  was  driving  with. 

"It's  too  bad  to  make  you  all  this  trouble,"  said  Elsie. 

"It's  a  pleasure,  Miss  Bellwood,"  declared  Ed,  in  his 
most  fetching  manner. 

"You  are  very  kind." 

Then  he  talked  to  her  in  a  manner  that  had  won  the 
admiration  of  many  girls  before  her.  She  looked  up  at  him 
with  her  innocent  blue  eyes,  and  he  longed  to  hug  her  and 
kiss  her  right  away,  but  held  himself  in  restraint,  as  he 
knew  it  would  not  do  to  go  too  fast. 

"There  is  plenty  of  time  before  the  show  begins,"  he 
said.  "Shall  we  not  drive  about  the  village  a  little?  Of 
course  you  wish  to  look  it  over,  and  this  will  give  you  a 
splendid  opportunity." 

"But  Inza  wUl  be  waiting  for  me." 

"She  will  not  expect  you  so  soon.  Don't  you  worry,  I'll 
get  you  to  Inza  in  good  season." 


Greatest  Surprise  of  All.  217 

Somehow  Elsie  did  not  feel  that  it  would  be  best  to 
let  him  take  her  about  the  village,  but  he  talked  to  her  in 
such  a  persuasive  manner  that  she  could  not  say  no.  Be- 
sides, he  had  risked  his  life  for  her,  and  she  did  not  wish 
to  seem  ungrateful. 

So  they  drove  about  Fardale.  The  young  fellows  who 
knew  Ed,  stared  at  them  and  wondered  who  the  "new 
peach"  was. 

Frank  and  Bart  Hodge  had  decided  to  attend  the  show 
that  evening,  and  they  came  into  the  village  together. 
Frank  was  going  to  take  Inza.  Both  lads  were  in  good 
spirits  as  they  entered  the  village.  They  were  talking  over 
their  rather  lively  adventures  since  coming  to  Fardale. 

"There  is  no  telling  what  will  happen  next,  old  man," 
said  Frank,  laughing.  "I  expected  we  would  have  a 
warm  time  here,  but  so  far  it  has  been  almost  too  warm." 

"Your  enemies  seem  to  have  struck  the  warmest  end 
of  it,"  said  Hodge.  "Somers,  for  instance,  was  well 
warmed." 

"Poor  fellow!"  said  Frank.  "He  came  near  getting 
cooked  for  good." 

"Served  him  right!"  growled  Bart.  "He  thought  he 
had  cooked  you.  He  got  some  of  his  own  medicine, 
that's  all." 

"But  he  is  repentant  enough  now." 

"Rot !  He  was  scared  into  it,  for  he  thought  you  were 
a  ghost  and  were  haunting  him.  Likely  as  not,  were  he  to 
get  on  his  feet  before  you  leave  town,  he  would  try  to  do 
you  another  dirty  turn." 

"I  don't  believe  it,  Bart,"  came  earnestly  from  Frank. 
"Anyhow,  I  am  not  the  fellow  to  jump  on  a  foe  that  is 
down,  and  so  Somers  is  safe.  They  think  he  is  a  hero  at 
the  academy." 

"Talk  about  surprises !"  exclaimed  Bart.  "You  are  the 
biggest  surprise  I  ever  struck!  You  surprise  me  right 


218  Greatest  Surprise  of  All. 

along.     I  can't  understand  a  fellow  who  is  ready  to  for- 
give his  enemies.    I  can't  forgive  like  that." 

"With  Harlow  and  Somers  out  of  the  ring,  things  are 
apt  to  be  quieter  here.  I  rather  think  the  surprises  are 
over,  Bart." 

At  that  moment  Elegant  Ed  drove  round  a  corner  and 
came  along  the  street.  Elsie  was  at  his  side.  Frank  saw 
her,  caught  his  breath,  and  almost  staggered. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  gasped. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Bart. 

"In  the  carriage " 

"EdClair?" 

No  the  girl  with  him !    Do  you  know  her,  Bart  ?    Are 
my  eyes  deceiving  me?     It  can't  be  possible?" 

"Why,"  said  Bart,  scarcely  less  astonished,  "I  believe 
it  is  Elsie  Bellwood." 

By  that  time  the  carriage  was  opposite  them.  Elsie  saw 
Frank  and  Bart.  Her  face  lighted  with  pleasure,  and  she 
bowed. 

But  neither  of  the  boys  bowed.  They  stared  at  her 
dumbly,  and  the  carriage  passed  on. 

Frank  turned  to  look  after  the  turnout. 

"I  feel  faint!"  he  exclaimed.  "Hold  me  up,  Bart,  be- 
fore I  fall  on  my  head !  Elsie  Bellwood — here — with  that 
fellow!  Say,  am  I  dreaming?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  declared  Hodge.  "That  was  Elsie 
Bellwood.  She  bowed  to  us." 

"She  did,  and  I  was  too  dazed  to  return  the  bow.  How 
in  the  world  does  it  happen  that  she  is  in  with  Ed  Clair? 
Will  you  answer  that  question,  old  man  ?" 

"I  can't." 

"Talk  about  surprises  I"  cried  Frank.  "This  is  the  great- 
est one  of  all!" 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

FRANK    IS    REPULSED. 

Frank  was  dumfounded.  His  head  was  in  a  whirl.  He 
watched  the  turnout  till  it  disappeared.  Once  Elsie  turned 
to  look  back. 

"As  Elsie  is  here,  Inza  must  know  all  about  it,"  he 
said.  "I'll  find  out  what  it  means  as  soon  as  I  can  see 
her." 

"But  that  she  should  be  riding-  with  Ed  Clairl"  said 
Bart,  scowling.  "That  was  what  upset  me !" 

"And  it  upset  me !  Elsie  with  that  fellow !  It  can't  be 
she  knows  what  he  is !  If  she  does " 

He  stopped  short,  and  was  silent  some  moments.  Fi- 
nally he  said : 

"Bart,  I  am  going  to  see  Inza  as  soon  as  possible.  Will 
see  you  again  after  the  show.  By  that  time  I  ought  to 
be  able  to  explain  it  to  you." 

The  boys  separated. 

As  Frank  was  on  his  way  to  keep  his  appointment  with 
Inza  a  hundred  wild  fancies  filled  his  head.  Elsie  had 
not  written  to  him  for  some  time.  She  -had  promised  to 
write,  but  had  not  kept  her  word.  He  had  thought  it 
strange,  but  fancied  she  might  be  at  sea  on  a  long  voyage 
with  her  father.  Now  she  was  here  in  Fardale,  and  she 
was  with  Ed  Gair,  the  gambler. 

A  great  fear  began  to  tug  at  Frank's  heart.  Gair  was 
a  handsome  and  fascinating  fellow,  and  he  often  left  Far- 
dale  and  was  away  for  weeks  or  months.  It  was  said  that 
he  went  away  to  gamble.  Had  he,  while  on  one  of  those 
expeditions,  met  and  become  acquainted  with  Elsie?  Had 
he  fascinated  her  so  she  had  fallen  in  love  with  him  ?  If 


220  Frank  Is  Repulsed. 

so,  Frank  felt  that  Elsie,  the  Elsie  who  was  so  dear  to 
him,  was  lost. 

That  thought  filled  him  with  the  most  poignant  anguish. 
He  began  to  feel  frantic  in  his  desire  to  tear  her  from  Ed 
Clair.  Never,  perhaps,  till  that  moment  had  he  realized 
how  dear  she  was  to  him.  The  thought  that  she  might 
be  lost  to  him  forever  brought  to  his  heart  a  realizing 
sense  of  this. 

His  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  He  felt  like  rushing  to  the 
livery  stable,  hiring  a  fast  horse,  and  pursuing  Clair  ^nd 
Elsie.  His  good  sense  told  him  such  an  act  would  be 
folly. 

But  the  knowledge  of  her  possible  danger  checked  him. 
If  she  did  not  know  what  sort  of  a  fellow  Ed  Clair  was, 
she  should  know  at  once. 

If  she  did  know 

He  did  not  wish  to  think  of  that.  He  did  not  wish  to 
think  that,  knowing  Clair  was  a  gambler,  Elsie  was  sitting 
at  his  side  as  he  drove  that  spanking  span  through  Far- 
dale.  Yet  it  seemed  possible.  It  seemed  that  Clair  might 
have  met  her  while  away  from  Fardale  the  last  time  and 
she  had  come  to  the  town  by  appointment. 

Even  if  this  were  true,  Frank  felt  like  taking  her  from 
the  fellow. 

"She  is  mine !"  he  told  himself  over  and  over,  without 
realizing  what  he  was  saying.  "No  other  girl  has  ever 
been  the  same  to  me — not  even  Inza !  He  has  no  right  to 
take  her  from  me !  I'll  take  her  away  by  force,  if  neces- 
sary !" 

Frank  was  desperate  then.  His  eyes  were  open  at 
last,  and  he  knew  that  Elsie  Bellwood  was  everything  in 
the  world  to  him. 

He  hastened  on  to  meet  Inza. 

In  the  meantime,  after  passing  Merriwell  and  Hodge, 
Qair  had  turned  to  the  girl  at  his  side,  and  he  saw  that 


Frank  Is  Repulsed.  221 

she  was  pressing  one  hand  over  her  heart,  while  her  face 
had  grown  pale,  and  there  was  a  look  of  pain  on  her 
face. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Miss  Bell  wood?"  he  asked. 

"I  am  not  feeling  well,"  she  answered,  slowly.  "I  do 
not  think  I  will  go  to  the  show  to-night.  If  you  will  take 
me  back  to  the  vessel " 

"Oh,  surely,  you  will  not  go  back  now !  Miss  Burrage 
will  wait  for  you.  Perhaps  Mr.  Merriwell  will  be  with 
her.  He  is  with  her  the  most  of  the  time.  People  here 
say  they  will  get  married  sometime — if  you  do  not  cut 
her  out." 

Elsie's  lips  were  pressed  together,  but  she  did  not 
speak.  Ed  went  on : 

"They  say  you  might  have  cut  her  out  one  time,  but 
that  she  has  the  real  right  to  him.  They  are  gossips.  You 
know  how  it  is  in  a  village  like  this.  They  want  some- 
thing to  talk  about.  Why,  they  even  said  that,  although 
she  befriended  you  and  took  you  into  her  own  home,  you 
came  near  cutting  her  out.  I  don't  believe  you  would  do 
anything  like  that,  but  gossips  will  be  gossips." 

Elsie  tried  to  force  a  smile,  but  it  was  a  sad  failure. 

"It  doesn't  look  as  if  there  is  much  danger  that  I  will 
cut  her  out,"  she  said.  "Didn't  you  see  how  contemptu- 
ously he  stared  at  me,  and  he  did  not  even  return  my 
bow  ?" 

"I  didn't  notice/'  lied  Clair. 

"Now,  I  know  he  did  not  answer  my  letters  because  he 
did  not  wish  to,"  she  murmured. 

In  her  heart  she  was  thinking: 

"I  have  been  a  foolish  girl !  I  let  him  see  how  much  I 
cared  for  him,  and  he  has  come  to  regard  me  with  con- 
tempt. If  I  had  not  let  him  know !" 

She  was  tortured  that  moment  as  only  a  girl  with  a 
sensitive  nature  and  a  tender,  loving  heart  may  be. 


222  Frank  Is  Repulsed. 

"The  best  way  to  win  some  fellows  is  to  show  them  you 
do  not  care  a  snap  for  them,''  said  Clair. 

He  talked  smoothly  to  her.  At  first  she  was  certain  she 
would  not  go  to  the  show.  She  even  insisted  that  she 
would  return  to  the  vessel.  He  told  her  how  lonely  it 
would  be  over  at  The  Harbor,  as,  of  course,  nearly  all  the 
sailors  were  ashore  and  in  town. 

Back  near  the  post  office  they  saw  Capt.  Bellwood.  Ed 
drew  up,  and  the  skipper  came  out  to  the  carriage.  Then 
Ed  got  in  his  work.  He  told  the  captain  how  Elsie  wished 
to  go  back  to  the  vessel,  ending  by  inviting  Elsie  and  her 
father  to  accompany  him  to  the  show. 

"We'll  have  a  private  box,"  he  said.  "Fardale  has  just 
built  a  new  opera  house,  and  it  has  boxes.  What  do  you 
say,  captain?" 

"Why,  of  course,  we'll  go,"  said  the  skipper.  "I  don't 
get  many  opportunities  to  see  a  good  show.  And  Elsie 
needs  something  to  liven  her  up.  She's  been  sad  for  a 
month.  Now,  not  a  word,  gal — we'll  go." 

Elsie  was  used  to  his  commanding  ways,  and  she  sub- 
mitted, although  she  did  not  wish  to  go. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  Capt.  Bellwood,  his  daughter 
and  Ed  Clair  occupied  one  of  the  private  boxes. 

Elsie  did  not  go  to  see  Inza,  fearing  to  meet  Frank 
Merriwell. 

She  did  not  feel  that  she  could  meet  him  then. 

Elsie  sat  back  in  the  box  as  the  audience  gathered  in 
the  little  opera  house.  She  had  a  position  where  she 
could  see  nearly  everyone  who  entered,  and  yet  was  not 
out  m  the  full  glare  of  the  lights.  She  watched  anxiously. 

The  orchestra  was  playing  the  overture  before  the  ones 
for  whom  Elsie  watched  entered.  Frank  and  Inza  came  in 
together.  They  had  seats  near  the  center  of  the  hall, 
well  down  toward  the  stage.  Elsie  drew  back,  but  con- 
tinued to  watch  them,  her  heart  throbbing  in  her  bosom. 


Frank  Is  Repulsed.  22} 

Frank  and  Inza  were  talking  earnestly.  Both  looked 
worried  and  restless.  Trie  most  of  the  time  Elsie  watched 
Frank.  She  saw  he  was  the  same  handsome,  manly-look- 
ing fellow  she  had  admired  so  much. 

Ed  Clair  sat  in  the  shadow,  also.  He  congratulated 
himself  on  the  way  things  were  going. 

"I'll  play  the  two  girls  against  each  other  and  win  the 
one  I  want,"  he  told  himself. 

He  talked  to  Elsie,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  hear  much 
that  he  said.  When  she  did  hear,  she  made  replies  in  a 
mechanical  manner.  Capt.  Bellwood  had  not  seen  Frank 
Merriwell  enter.  He  was  listening  to  the  orchestra. 

"Pritty  good  music,"  he  said,  nodding  his  satisfaction. 
"We  don't  get  a  chance  to  hear  music  like  that  often,  do 
we,  Elsie?  This  is  a  real  treat  for  me." 

The  curtain  went  up  and  the  show  began ;  but  still  Elsie 
watched  Frank  and  Inza.  She  had  no  interest  in  what 
was  taking  place  on  the  stage. 

After  a  time  Inza  saw  her  there  in  the  box.  At  first 
it  seemed  that  Inza  could  not  believe  it,  but,  after  a  little, 
she  called  Frank's  attention.  Elsie  had  drawn  back  still 
farther,  but  Frank  saw  her,  and  his  face  flushed,  while  a 
look  of  relief  came  over  it.  From  his  position  he  could 
see  Elsie  and  her  father,  but  did  not  see  Clair. 

Inza  said  something  to  Frank.  She  seemed  to  be  tell- 
ing him  to  do  something.  Straightway,  he  got  up,  passed 
to  the  back  of  the  hall,  and  then  came  down  to  the  side 
door  that  opened  into  the  box. 

Ed  Clair  had  been  anticipating  the  move,  and  he  met 
Frank  at  the  door.  Merry  was  surprised,  for  he  had  not 
expected  to  see  Elegant  Ed  there.  He  asked  for  Miss 
Bellwood. 

"This  is  a  private  box,"  said  Clair,  haughtily. 

Then  he  closed  the  door  in  Merriwell's  face. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

MERRIWECL    STRIKES. 

Elsie  knew  Frank  had  called  at  the  box  and  had  been 
refused  admittance  by  Clair.  She  was  both  glad  and 
sorry.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  there  was  in  her  heart 
something  like  a  feeling  of  resentment  toward  Frank. 

Over  and  over  she  told  herself  he  might  have  answered 
her  letters,  at  least,  even  though  he  had  decided  at  last  that 
he  thought  the  more  of  Inza. 

Qair  changed  his  seat  after  Merriwell's  repulse.  He 
changed  to  a  position  where  he  could  see  Frank  and  Frank 
could  see  him.  He  felt  that  he  had  given  Merriwell  a 
body  blow,  and  he  was  determined  to  enjoy  his  triumph. 

Frank  went  back  quietly  and  took  his  .seat  at  Inza's 
side.  She  questioned  him  eagerly,  but  it  was  plain  that 
he  put  her  off  for  the  time. 

Before  the  end  of  the  first  act  five  of  Merriwell's  friends 
entered  the  opera  house  and  found  seats  together.  They 
were  Bruce,  Jack  Diamond,  Ephraim,  Barney  and  Hans. 
Not  far  from  them  sat  Bart  Hodge. 

"Merriwell's  gang  is  here,"  thought  Ed  Clair.  "It's  a 
queer  collection  of  characters  that  hang  around  him." 

When  the  curtain  had  descended  at  the  close  of  the  first 
act  Frank  was  seen  speaking  earnestly  to  the  girl  at  his 
side.  As  he  talked  to  her  she  became  excited,  and  she 
often  looked  toward  the  box  occupied  by  Capt.  Bellwood, 
his  daughter  and  the  dandy  of  the  town. 

Elegant  Ed  observed  this,  and  he  chatted  and  laughed 
with  Elsie.  Elsie  did  not  feel  much  like  laughing,  but  she 
forced  the  smiles  to  her  lips,  resolved  that  Frank  should 
not  know  how  he  had  hurt  her. 


Merriwell  Strikes.  225 

When  she  learned  how  Frank  had  been  repulsed,  Inza 
wanted  to  go  to  the  box  herself,  but  Merry  advised  her 
against  it. 

"It  would  not  be  the  proper  thing,  under  the  circum- 
stances," he  said. 

"Bother  on  the  proper  thing!"  exclaimed  the  girl, 
warmly.  "I  must  see  Elsie  and  tell  her  what  sort  of  fel- 
low Ed  Clair  is.  I  should  have  told  her  to-day,  but 
I  did  not  find  the  opportunity.  Now  I  am  sorry  I  did 
not  make  one." 

"You  must  not  go  to  that  box,"  said  Frank.  "I  should 
not  have  done  so  had  I  seen  Clair  there ;  but  I  thought  the 
box  was  occupied  alone  by  Capt.  Bellwood  and  Elsie, 
which  made  me  feel  that  I  would  be  welcome." 

"Then  I  will  send  a  message." 

"You  may  send  a  message  by  one  of  the  ushers." 

Frank  took  a  notebook  from  his  pocket,  and  Inza  wrote 
on  one  of  the  pages,  which  was  afterward  torn  out. 

"DEAR  ELSIE  :  You  are  in  danger !  Must  see  you  im- 
mediately after  the  play  is  over.  Shall  wait  for  you  at  the 
door.  Do  not  show  this,  and  say  nothing  about  it.  I 
will  explain  everything  when  I  meet  you.  Don't  fail  me, 
Elsie !  INZA." 

This  note  was  sent  by  one  of  the  ushers  to  the  box.  The 
usher  was  instructed  to  deliver  it  to  no  one  but  the  girl 
in  the  box  herself,  and  he  promised  that  he  would  not. 

Frank  and  Inza  watched.  They  saw  Clair  disappear 
from  the  front  of  the  box,  and  he  was  gone  some  time. 
Pretty  soon  he  came  back  and  sat  down.  He  was  laugh- 
ing triumphantly. 

"Elsie  did  not  go  to  the  door!"  whispered  Inza, 
excitedly. 

"No,"  said  Frank,  simply. 

"What  do  you  supose  it  means  ?" 


226  Merriwell  Strikes. 

"That  your  message  will  not  roach  her.  Clair  has 
blocked  it.  See,  he  is  laughing  at  us." 

"What's  that  he  has  in  his  hand?    Is  it — can  it  be " 

"The  message  ?    It's  likely.     Here  comes  the  usher." 

The  usher  approached,  his  face  crimson  with  confu- 
sion. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said.  "I  am  not  to  blame.  I 
told  Mr.  Clair  that  the  note  was  to  be  delivered  to  the 
girl  herself.  He  offered  to  give  it  to  her,  but  I  would 
not  let  him  have  it.  All  at  once,  he  snatched  it  from  my 
hand  and  closed  the  door  in  my  face." 

Frank's  teeth  came  together  with  a  click. 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  and  the  usher  walked  away. 

Inza  was  growing  more  and  more  excited  and  angry. 

"What  can  we  do?"  she  kept  asking  over  and  over. 

"Wait  till  after  the  play,"  advised  Frank,  quietly.  "Mr. 
Ed  Clair  is  fast  reaching  the  end  of  his  rope.  He  must 
be  foolish  to  think  he  can  keep  the  truth  from  Elsie." 

They  saw  the  fellow  coolly  read  the  note  and  then  tear 
it  into  small  pieces  before  their  eyes  and  fling  the  pieces 
to  the  floor.  He  sat  near  Elsie  and  continued  to  chat 
with  her  and  laugh. 

Frank's  blood  was  well  warmed  by  this  time,  but,  out- 
wardly, he  was  as  cool  as  ice.  He  had  resolved  to  get  the 
best  of  Elegant  Ed  that  very  night.  He  felt  that  Clair 
was  maligning  him,  and  he  was  right. 

The  dandy  of  the  town  had  called  the  attention  of  Capt. 
Bellwood  to  Frank  and  Inza.  As  first  the  old  man's  face 
flushed  with  pleasure  on  seeing  Merry. 

"A  fine  lad !"  he  declared.    "I  know  him  well." 

"He  is  a  fine-looking  fellow,"  bowed  Clair.  "It's  too 
bad  that  he  is  such  a  masher." 

The  old  salt  wrinkled  his  face  and  looked  doubtful. 

""He  is  young,"  he  said.    "Young  fellows  are  liable  to 


Merriwell  Strikes.  227 

be  chasing  the  gals  more  or  less.  I  know  I  did  in  my 
day." 

"But  he  boasts  of  his  conquests.  He  shows  the  letters 
he  receives  from  the  girls  who  are  stuck  on  him." 

"Ah,  now,  now !"  protested  Capt.  Bellwood ;  "that  can't 
be  true.  I  do  not  think  Frank  Merriwell  would  be  that 
foolish.  I  know  him  well,  I  tell  you.  He  has  been  a 
passenger  with  me  on  one  of  my  vessels.  He  is  a  frank, 
open  fellow,  but  I  don't  think  he  would  do  a  thing  like 
that.  No,  no,  sir !" 

"I  can  bring  a  dozen  persons  in  this  village  who  will 
tell  you  that  he  has  read  the  letters  received  from  girls. 
Among  those  letters  was  one  from  Miss  Bellwood,  too." 

This  was  a  bold  stroke  for  Ed.  He  was  determined  to 
get  in  his  work  right  away.  If  he  could  arouse  the  captain 
so  that  Frank  and  Elsie  would  be  kept  apart  a  few  days, 
that  was  all  he  asked. 

Justin  Bellwood  looked  astonished. 

"Hum !  hum !"  he  coughed.  "I  believe  you  did  write 
to  him,  Elsie?  You  asked  me  about  it,  and  I  gave  you 
permission." 

Elsie's  face  was  pale,  but  she  said  nothing.  She  did 
not  wish  to  believe  that  Frank  had  shown  any  of  her 
letters  and  laughed  over  them,  but  he  had  acted  strangely 
in  not  answering  them,  and  she  was  in  doubt.  She  fell 
like  telling  Clair  that  she  did  not  believe  what  he  was  say- 
ing, but  she  remembered  how  he  had  rescued  her  thai 
day,  and  she  thought  it  would  not  be  right  to  speak  sc 
plainly. 

"If  there  are  love  passages  in  the  letters,"  said  Clair,  "he 
always  calls  particular  attention  to  them  and  ridicules  thi 
girls  as  soft." 

The  pale  face  of  the  captain's  daughter  flushed  then, 
for  she  knew  she  had  spoken  freely  in  some  of  her  let- 
ters to  Frank,  and  it  humiliated  her  to  think  he  might  hav« 


228  Merriwell  Strikes. 

laughed  at  her  frankness  and  ridiculed  her  as  "soft." 
She  was  sure  there  had  been  a  time  when  Frank  cared 
for  her,  but  he  was  a  "college  man"  now,  and,  without 
doubt,  he  had  met  many  aristocratic  girls  of  wealthy  par- 
ents, so  that  Elsie,  the  captain's  daughter,  seemed  of  little 
account  to  him  save  as  a  companion  for  some  idle  hour. 

These  thoughts  hurt  her,  but  she  feared  they  were  true. 

"Well,  gal,"  said  the  old  skipper,  "I  hope  you  ain't  been 
foolish  enough  to  write  him  anything  he  could  have  sport 
over.  He  seems  to  be  pretty  well  satisfied  with  the  gal 
he  has  there,  and  so  you  better  keep  away  from  him." 

That  was  all  he  said,  but  Elsie  felt  that  her  father  had 
forbidden  her  to  have  anything  to  do  with  Frank. 

"It's  needless  to  caution  me,"  she  thought.  "He  would 
not  even  recognize  me  on  the  street.  I  am  nothing  but 
the  daughter  of  a  poor  sea  captain,  and  he  is  a  Yale  man. 
That's  what's  the  matter !" 

She  took  very  little  interest  in  the  play,  although  she 
pretended  to  do  so  at  times.  It  was  plain  she  was  wearied 
with  it  all,  and  longed  to  be  away,  but  Capt.  Bellwood  en- 
joyed it,  and  he  would  not  leave  till  it  was  over,  although 
urged  to  do  so  by  both  Elsie  and  Ed  Clair. 

Clair  wished  to  leave  the  hall  in  advance  of  the  crowd, 
and  he  secretly  cursed  Capt.  Bellwood  for  his  obstinacy. 

At  last  the  play  was  over.  The  curtain  descended  on 
the  last  act,  and  the  orchestra  played  "Home,  Sweet 
Home,"  while  the  audience  streamed  out  of  the  opera 
house. 

There  was  but  one  entrance  and  exit,  for  which  Merri- 
well was  thankful.  At  the  door  Frank  and  Inza  took  a 
position  where  they  could  see  the  spectators  as  they  passed. 

"You  must  speak  to  her,  Inza,"  said  Frank.  "She  must 
be  told  the  truth  to-night." 

Pretty  soon  Capt.  Bellwood,  Elsie  and  Ed  Clair  came 


Merriwell  Strikes.  229 

along.  Immediately  Inza  hastened  to  the  side  of  her  girl 
friend,  crying: 

"Oh,  Elsie,  I  must  see  you  a  moment!  I  wish  to  speak 
with  you." 

A  muttered  imprecation  escaped  Clair,  and,  with  a 
sudden  impulse,  he  reached  out  to  stop  Inza,  rudely  grasp- 
ing her  by  the  wrist.  She  uttered  a  cry  of  pain. 

The  next  moment  there  was  the  sound  of  a  hard  blow 
and  a  fall. 

Frank  had  promptly  knocked  Elegant  Ed  down ! 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

A    PITCHED    BATTLE. 

There  was  a  sudden  surge  of  the  people  who  were  pass- 
ing out  of  the  building.  Women  screamed.  Some  tried 
to  stop  on  the  stairs,  but  others  forced  them  down  and 
out.  Nearly  all  had  left  the  building  before  this. 

Clair's  rude  act  had  caused  Frank  to  act  quite  as  swiftly. 
He  had  struck  the  fellow  a  heavy  blow,  and  the  dandy  of 
the  town  dropped  like  a  log. 

But  Elegant  Ed  was  not  knocked  out.  He  quickly 
scrambled  up,  his  face  flaming  with  passion. 

Frank  had  said  to  Inza: 

"Take  Elsie  away — take  her  home  with  you!  There 
will  be  a  riot  here!  Get  her  away  at  once,  or  you  may 
get  hurt,  both  of  you." 

"Oh,  Frank!"  exclaimed  Inza;  "all  the  town  fellows 
will  stand  in  with  him!  You  will  be  killed!  You  are 
alone !" 

"Not  much!"  exclaimed  a  voice,  and  Bart  Hodge  ap- 
peared at  Frank's  side.  "Don't  worry  about  him,  Miss 
Burrage.  All  of  our  party  is  at  hand.  We'll  stand  by 
Merry." 

"Shiver  my  timbers!"  began  Capt.  Bellwood.  "What 
is  the  meaning  of  this  ?" 

"Don't  stop  to  ask  questions,"  said  Frank.  "Take  care 
of  Miss  Elsie.  This  is  no  place  for  her." 

As  Ed  got  upon  his  feet,  he  gave  a  sharp,  shrill  whistle. 
It  was  answered  by  several  whistles  outside  the  hall,  and 
there  was  a  clatter  of  feet  on  the  stairs. 

"They're  coming !"  breathed  Hodge,  his  eyes  glittering, 


A  Pitched  Battle.  231 

and  his  dark  cheeks  flushed.  "We're  in  for  a  scrap, 
Merry !" 

"Yes,  they  are  coming !"  snarled  Elegant  Ed,  "and  you 
are  in  for  the  worst  licking  you  ever  received !" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  laughed  Merriwell.  "You  can't 
tell  about  that." 

Realizing  there  was  danger,  Capt.  Bellwood  hurried 
down  the  stairs  with  Inza  and  Elsie. 

The  eyes  of  Frank  and  Bart  met.  Then  they  uttered 
the  old  Yale  yell — the  slogan  that  had  called  the  sons  of 
Old  Eli  to  battle  on  many  a  field. 

Up  the  stairs  came  several  of  the  young  desperadoes 
of  the  town.  Clair  was  ready  to  direct  them. 

"At  those  chaps !"  he  shouted,  pointing  at  Merriwell  and 
Hodge.  "They  jumped  on  me!  Give  it  to  them!" 

With  a  yell,  Glair's  gang  went  at  Frank  and  Bart. 

"Back  to  back !"  exclaimed  Frank.  "We  must  fight  that 
way  till  the  boys  come." 

Back  to  back  they  placed  themselves  and  met  the  onset 
of  Elegant  Ed's  gang.  For  a  few  moments  it  seemed 
that  they  would  be  swept  off  their  feet. 

Then  there  was  another  rush  of  feet  on  the  stairs. 

"Hurro !  it's  comin'  we  are !"  roared  the  voice  of  Mulloy. 

"Gosh  all  hemlock!"  sounded  the  voice  of  Gallup. 
"Saounds  like  there  was  a  fight  up  there !" 

"Yaw!"  puffed  the  Dutch  boy.  "There  peen  drouble 
ahead  uf  us,  or  you  vos  a  liar !" 

Not  a  word  from  the  others  of  the  party,  but  Browning 
and  Diamond  were  on  hand  and  were  the  first  ones  to 
reach  the  gang  trying  to  beat  down  Merriwell  and  Hodge. 

"Sail  in,  fellows !"  shouted  Frank.    "We  need  you !" 

Then  there  was  a  wild  battle  there  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs.  The  whole  mass  swung  round  and  went  plung- 
ing down  the  stairs  to  the  bottom,  and  the  fight  continued 
out  onto  the  street. 


232  A  Pitched  Battle. 

"Don't  let  Merriwell  and  his  gang  get  away!"  cried 
Ed  Clair,  directing  his  friends.  "Do  'em  up,  boys — do 
'em  up!" 

"That's  the  chap  I  want  to  get  at !"  muttered  Frank,  who 
Was  engaged  with  one  of  the  big  toughs  of  the  town. 
"Knock  him  out,  and  it  will  come  pretty  near  ending  the 
fight." 

He  watched  his  chance  and  gave  the  big  fellow  a  punch 
in  the  wind  that  doubled  him  up,  then  cracked  him  be- 
hind the  ear  and  knocked  him  over. 

A  large  crowd  of  spectators  had  gathered  in  front  of 
the  opera  house  to  watch  the  fight.  Some  were  crying 
for  the  sheriff,  but  Bill  Hawkins  did  not  happen  to  be 
on  hand,  and  the  pitched  battle  continued  with  unabated 
fury. 

Frank  plunged  through  the  thickest  of  it,  hurling  the 
fighters  right  and  left,  regardless  of  friend  or  foe,  in  his 
search  for  Elegant  Ed.  Merriwell's  heart  was  full  of 
rage  toward  the  gambler. 

At  last  he  came  face  to  face  with  Clair.  He  seized 
him  by  the  shoulder,  laughing  triumphantly.  It  was  the 
same  old  dangerous  laugh  that  came  from  his  lips  when 
he  was  most  aroused. 

"You  are  the  party  I  want !"  he  cried. 

"Hang  you!"  snarled  the  dandy,  whirling  swiftly  and 
striking  Frank. 

Merry  staggered  under  the  blow,  but  he  laughed 
again. 

"That  was  pretty  good — for  you,"  he  said;  "but  here 
is  something  better!" 

Then  he  knocked  Qair  down  for  the  second  time  that 
night,  and  bent  over  him,  saying: 

"Get  up !  get  up !  I  don't  want  to  hit  you  when  you  are 
down,  but  I  am  going  to  spoil  your  good  looks  for  a  short 
time !  I  am  going  to  give  you  some  pretty  black  eyes." 


A  Pitched  Battle.  233 

Panting,  furious,  blind  with  rage,  Clair  leaped  up. 
Merriwell's  next  blow  failed  to  reach  him,  and  he  rushed 
at  Frank. 

"You'll  not  get  out  of  this  with  a  whole  bone  in  your 
body !"  fumed  Ed.  "My  crowd  will  eat  you  and  your 
gang !  We  are  two  to  your  one !" 

"If  you  were  four  to  our  one,  you  would  not  be  so 
many,"  returned  Frank.  "But,  whatever  else  happens,  I 
am  going  to  give  you  what  you  deserve." 

"Right!"  thundered  the  voice  of  Bruce  Browning,  in 
Frank's  ear ;  "give  it  to  the  duffer,  Merry !" 

Then  the  big  college  man  sailed  into  the  battle  again,  his 
huge  fists  falling  on  the  heads  of  Clair's  gang,  knocking 
them  right  and  left.  Browning  was  a  terrific  fighter  when 
aroused,  and  he  was  beginning  to  wake  up. 

Diamond  and  Hodge  were  fighting  silently  and  doing 
their  best.  Ephraim  Gallup  was  slashing  about  with  his 
long  arms  and  whooping  at  the  top  of  his  voice : 

"Wake  up,  snakes !  Gol  darned  if  this  ain't  more  fun 
than  diggin'  'taturs !  We-ow !  Who  hit  me  on  the  ear  ? 
Show  me  the  feller  that  punched  me  on  my  hearin*  organ ! 
I'll  do  him  good !  Stop  hittin'  behind  my  back !  It's  no 
fair  kickin'  unless  I  kick  fust !" 

And  "kick  fust"  he  did  in  more  cases  than  one.  His 
big  feet  were  like  battering-rams,  and  they  lifted  some  of 
the  town  boys  right  up  into  the  air. 

Barney  Mulloy  was  in  his  glory. 

"Huri»o!"  he  bellowed.  "It's  a  roight  toight  bit  av  a 
schrap  this  is!  It's  warmin'  me  blood!  Take  thot,  ye 
spalpane!  Begorra,  did  ye  iwer  see  thim  come  up  so 
plisantly  loike  an'  take  their  medicine !" 

Then  he  was  struck  a  blow  that  knocked  him  down,  but 
he  bounded  up  like  a  rubber  ball,  giving  another  cheer  and 
sailing  into  the  fight  with  redoubled  fury. 

Hans  Dunnerwust  was  down  the  most  of  the  time.    He 


234  A  Pitched  Battle. 

rolled  about  under  the  feet  of  the  fighters  and  tripped 
them  up. 

"Stob  steppin'  your  feet  me  onto !"  he  squawked.  "Uf 
you  don't  got  oudt  my  vay  uf  you  vill  tread  me  all  ofer. 
Wow !  Oxcuse  yourseluf  vor  steppin'  der  schmall  of  my 
pack  in!  You  vill  gif  myseluf  der  kidney  gomblaint  uf 
I  don'd  look  oudt !" 

Somehow  he  managed  to  get  hold  of  the  legs  of  the  town 
boys,  and  he  tripped  them  up  one  after  another.  In  this 
manner  he  was  far  more  effective  than  he  could  have  been 
on  his  feet. 

In  the  meantime,  Frank  was  clinging  to  Ed  Clair  and 
giving  him  a  thorough  whipping.  Again  and  again  Ed 
called  for  help,  but  Bruce  Browning  and  Jack  Diamond 
kept  off  those  who  tried  to  render  him  assistance  till,  at  last, 
he  was  knocked  out  completely. 

The  fall  of  Clair  seemed  to  take  the  heart  out  of  the 
gang.  Some  one  shouted  that  Hawkins  was  coming,  and 
then  there  was  a  scattering.  To  the  surprise  of  Frank  and 
his  friends,  of  a  sudden  they  found  themselves  left  alone 
and  the  fight  was  over. 

Never  before  in  the  history  of  Fardale  had  Elegant 
Ed's  crowd  been  defeated  in  a  pitched  battle.  The  vil- 
lagers themselves  were  slow  to  believe  such  a  thing  had 
taken  place,  although  not  a  few  of  them  were  glad  of  it. 

Frank  and  his  friends  went  directly  to  the  hotel  to  get 
patched  up.  They  had  not  escaped  unmarked. 

Indeed,  when  they  were  where  the  light  revealed  the 
true  condition,  it  was  seen  that  Barney  and  Bart,  two  of 
the  fiercest  fighters,  had  been  bruised  and  cut  severely, 
while  Hans  was  covered  with  dust  and  blood,  and  Eph- 
raim's  coat  had  been  stripped  from  his  back. 

"But  we  done  th'  spalpanes  up,  b'ys,  hurro!"  shouted 
Barney,  as  he  leaped  into  the  air  and  cracked  his  heels  to- 
gether three  times  before  touching  the  floor  again.  "It 


A  Pitched  Battle.  235 

made  me  think  av  old  toimes  in  Oireland.  Begobs !  it  wur 
loike  a  rale  Oirish  fair !" 

"Vale,  I  didn'd  seen  nottings  fair  apout  id,"  declared 
Hans.  "Somepody  got  me  down  der  groundt  on,  und  der 
whole  kerpoodle  valked  all  ofer  me  more  as  safendeen  hun- 
dret  dimes !" 

"Gol  darned  ef  I  didn't  kainden  wish  I  was  to  hum  on 
the  farm !"  admitted  Ephraim  Gallup.  "That  is,  I  wished 
that  till  I  got  good  an'  mad  arter  some  critter  chunked  me 
on  the  jaw.  Then  I  jest  slashed  right  into  the  skirmish, 
an'  the  way  I  lammed  some  of  them  fellers  was  a  caution, 
b'gosh!" 

Frank  hired  a  room  at  the  hotel,  so  that  they  might  have 
a  chance  to  wash  up  in  privacy.  When  all  of  them  were  in 
that  room  they  talked  over  the  battle  as  they  bathed  and 
straightened  themselves  up.  Frank  sent  out  for  arnica  and 
court-plaster. 

"Do  you  know  if  Inza  and  Elsie  left  together  ?"  he  asked 
of  Bart. 

"I  believe  they  did." 

"It  would  have  been  like  Inza  had  she  remained  to  see 
how  the  fight  came  out.  Elsie  may  have  been  so  fright- 
ened that  Inza  was  obliged  to  go  away  with  her." 

Frank  resolved  to  hasten  as  soon  as  possible  to  the  place 
where  Inza  was  stopping  while  in  Fardale  and  find  out  if 
the  girls  were  safe.  He  had  received  two  thumps  that  left 
bruises,  but  he  bathed  them  with  arnica,  brushed  his 
clothes,  and  started  out  fearlessly,  not  even  telling  anyone 
where  he  was  going. 

The  fight  had  produced  a  tumult  of  excitement  in  the 
village,  and  knots  of  villagers  were  gathered  on  the  street 
talking  it  over.  Frank  avoided  all  of  them,  and  went 
directly  to  the  house  where  Inza  was  visiting. 

A  ring  at  the  doorbell  brought  Inza  there  herself.  She 
gave  a  cry  of  joy  and  threw  her  arms  about  Frank's  neck. 


236  A  Pitched  Battle. 

"Oh,  I  am  giad  you  are  all  right !"  she  exclaimed.  "But 
I  felt  sure  you  would  come  out  all  right." 

"Yes,  I  am  all  right,"  said  he,  "thanks  to  the  fact  that 
my  friends  were  on  hand  to  stand  by  me.  Some  of  the 
boys  were  scarred  up,  but  we  done  up  Clair  and  his  gang." 

"Good !    It's  what  they  deserved." 

"I  suppose  you  have  told  Elsie  all  about  him  ?" 

"Yes,  I  told  her  and  her  father  everything.  They  were 
astonished,  of  course,  but  were  glad  to  know  the  truth. 
Capt.  Bellwood  says  he  will  look  out  for  Clair." 

"Where  are  they  now — Elsie  and  her  father?" 

"They  started  for  The  Harbor  about  ten  minutes  ago." 

Frank  looked  worried. 

"I  wanted  to  see  them,"  he  said.  "I  meant  to  take  the 
boys  and  escort  them  over." 

"Oh,  I  don't  suppose  there  is  any  danger.  Capt.  Bell- 
wood  can  look  out  for  Elsie." 

"Capt.  Bellwood  is  not  as  young  as  he  might  be." 

Inza  showed  alarm. 

"Do  you  think "  she  began. 

"It's  not  likely  anything  will  happen  to  them,"  said 
Frank;  "but  I  should  have  felt  better  had  they  been  pro- 
tected." 

Then,  with  a  hasty  adieu  to  Inza,  he  hurried  back  toward 
the  hotel. 

Inza  was  disappointed  by  Frank's  call.  He  had  not 
seemed  like  himself,  and  he  had  hurried  to  get  away  as 
soon  as  he  learned  Elsie  was  not  there. 

"It  was  Elsie  he  came  to  see,"  she  told  herself. 

She  felt  her  cheeks  flush,  and  in  her  heart  an  arrow  of 
jealousy  rankled.  For  long  years  she  and  Elsie  had  been 
friendly  rivals,  but  now  she  felt  that  the  time  had  come 
when  Frank  should  choose  between  them.  It  must  be 
that  he  cared  more  for  one  than  for  the  other,  and  he 
should  say  which  one. 


A  Pitched  Battle.  237 

The  more  she  thought  about  it  the  firmer  this  idea  be- 
came fixed  in  her  mind.  Frank's  great  concern  over  Elsie's 
safety  worried  her,  and  still  she  would  have  thought  less 
of  him  had  he  not  shown  concern. 

"If  she  wins  him,  I  will  still  remain  her  friend,"  de- 
clared Inza,  although  the  thought  was  distressing.  "I  am 
not  going  to  be  foolish  and  hate  her.  She  is  ^  sweet  girl, 
and  she  has  not  tried  to  win  him  from  me.  If  I  were  to 
ask  her  to  do  so,  she  would  drop  him  at  once  and  never 
have  anything  to  do  with  him.  She  would  think  it  her 
duty." 

But,  instead  of  asking  such  a  thing  of  Elsie,  Inza  felt 
that  she  would  urge  the  captain's  daughter  to  win  Frank  if 
she  could. 

"I  don't  want  him  if  he  cares  more  for  her  than  he  does 
for  me,"  she  told  herself. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
FOUL  P:AY. 

Frank  hastened  back  to  the  hotel.  Outside  the  door 
some  young  men  were  talking.  One  of  them  said : 

"Wonder  where  Clair  and  his  gang  has  gone  ?" 

"Why?"  asked  another. 

"Saw  them  about  ten  minutes  ago  striking  out  on  the 
road  toward  The  Harbor.  Can't  be  they  are  looking  for 
Merriwell's  crowd,  for  them  fellers  are  right  here  in  the 
hotel." 

Frank  shot  into  the  hotel,  he  bounded  up  the  stairs,  he 
burst  into  the  room  he  had  hired. 

"Boys,"  he  panted,  "there  may  be  more  trouble  to- 
night !" 

"Oxcuse  me  vile  I  get  mine  seluf  der  bed  under !"  cried 
Hans,  in  alarm. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Hodge,  who  had  patched 
up  his  wounds.  "More  trouble — how  ?" 

"Capt.  Bellwood  and  Elsie  started  out  for  The  Harbor 
a  short  time  ago.  I  have  just  learned  that  Ed  Clair  and  his 
gang  followed  them." 

There  were  exclamations  from  all  sides. 

"How  many  of  you  are  with  me  to  take  the  road  to  The 
Harbor  at  once  ?"  asked  Frank. 

Every  man  expressed  his  readiness,  even  to  Hans. 

"Then  get  ready  and  come  on,"  directed  Frank. 

Outside  of  Fardale  is  was  dark,  for  the  sky  was  over- 
cast. The  road  to  The  Harbor  lay  through  the  blackness. 
Along  that  road  the  Kttle  party  made  its  way  as  swiftly 
as  possible.  Few  words  were  spoken.  When  it  was  neces- 
sary to  speak,  low  tones  were  used. 


Foul  Play.  239 

Frank  led  the  party.  His  ears  were  open,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  something,  he  knew  not  what. 

More  than  two-thirds  the  distance  to  The  Harbor  had 
been  covered.  Down  the  road  in  the  collection  of  huts  one 
or  two  lights  gleamed  a  dim  red.  There  were  lights  on 
Capt.  Bellwood's  schooner  at  the  wharf,  and  other  lights 
on  the  vessels  laying  off. 

Of  a  sudden,  Frank's  foot  struck  against  something 
over  which  he  stumbled,  falling  on  his  hands  and  knees. 
There  was  a  groan. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Hodge,  quickly.  "Are  you 
hurt,  Merry?" 

"No." 

"But  we  heard  you  groan." 

"I  did  not  groan." 

"We  heard  a  groan." 

"There  is  somebody  in  the  road,"  said  Frank,  huskily,  a 
great  fear  assailing  him.  "I  fell  over  his  body.  Strike  a 
match — quick !  quick  I" 

Jack  Diamond  hastened  to  obey,  for  the  sound  of  Frank's 
voice  told  him  haste  was  needed,  even  though  the  words 
had  not  been  so  urgent.  He  scratched  the  match.  It 
flickered,  flared,  and  then — puff! — a  breath  of  wind  blew 
it  out. 

But  that  one  brief  flare  of  light  had  shown  the  staring 
lads  a  dark  figure  stretched  prone  in  the  dust  of  the  road. 

Diamond  uttered  a  cry,  and  then  felt  for  another  match ; 
but  he  was  thrust  aside  by  Barney  Mulloy,  who  said : 

"It's  a  poor  Oirishmon  ye'd  make,  me  b'y,  av  ye  can't 
loight  a  match  in  this  bit  av  wind.  Oi  can  loight  wan  in 
a  gale.  It's  aisy  enough  whin  ye  know  th'  thrick." 

Then  he  struck  a  match,  shaded  it  with  his  hands  till  it 
burned  up  brightly,  and  then  opened  his  hands  so  the  light 
fell  full  on  the  prostrate  figure  in  the  road. 

It  was  Ctpt.  Justin  Bellwoodl 


240  Foul  Play. 

"Foul  play!"  cried  Frank,  pointing  to  a  stain  of  blood  on 
the  old  man's  hair. 

"He  is  dead!" 

"He's  been  murdered !" 

"It's  the  divvil's  own  wurruk !" 

These  exclamations  came  from  Frank's  companions  as 
they  stared  down  at  the  old  man  lying  so  still  in  the  dust  of 
the  road,  his  white  hair  dyed  crimson  with  blood. 

For  a  moment  Frank  Merriwell  was  unnerved.  It  was 
not  the  sight  of  Justin  Bellwood  lying  there  so  much  as  it 
was  another  thought  that  took  the  heart  from  him. 

Where  was  Elsie  ? 

She  was  not  there,  and,  without  doubt,  she  had  been  car- 
ried away — kidnaped! 

The  match  dropped  from  Barney  Mulloy's  nerveless  fin- 
gers and  turned  to  a  tiny  glowing  ember  in  the  dust.  The 
darkness  seemed  a  hundred  times  more  intense,  and  the 
horror  of  the  boys  who  fancied  themselves  in  the  presence 
of  death  was  great. 

Then  another  groan  was  heard.  It  aroused  Merry,  who 
immediately  said : 

"Strike  another  match,  Barney.  The  captain  still  lives. 
We  must  see  how  bad  he  is  hurt." 

Barney's  shaking  fingers  found  a  second  match  and  he 
struck  it,  kneeling  in  the  dust  beside  the  prostrate  figure. 
Frank  was  kneeling  also,  and,  as  soon  as  the  light  ad- 
mitted, he  examined  the  wound  on  Capt.  Bellwood's  head. 

"Not  much  of  a  cut,"  he  said.  "He  was  struck  down 
from  behind,  and,  if  his  skull  is  not  fractured,  he  may 
come  round  all  right.  The  blow  robbed  him  of  his  senses." 

"What  kin  we  do,  Frank  ?"  asked  Ephraim  Gallup,  help- 
lessly, 

"You  strike  back  to  the  village  for  a  doctor,  and  be  lively 
about  it,"  Merriwell  directed.  "The  rest  of  us  will  carry 
the  captain  to  hii  vessel,  which  lays  at  the  wharf  down 


Foul  Play.  241 

yonder.  Bring  a  doctor,  Ephraim.  Tell  him  it  is  a  case 
of  life  or  death." 

"I'll  do  it,  b'gosh !"  exclaimed  the  boy  from  Vermont, 
as  he  scurried  away  in  the  darkness,  setting  out  on  a  run 
for  the  village. 

Capt.  Bellwood  was  lifted  and  carried  down  to  his  ves- 
sel. Frank  was  holding  himself  well  in  check,  although 
his  heart  was  full  of  despair  and  fury  at  the  thought  of 
Elsie's  peril. 

"Where  do  you  suppose  she  is,  Merry?"  asked  Hodge, 
seeming  to  read  Frank's  thoughts. 

"Heaven  knows !"  came  helplessly  from  Merry's  lips. 

"Ed  Clair  has " 

"If  he  harms  a  hair  on  her  head  I'll  have  his  life!'* 
panted  Frank  Merriwell.  "If  he  harms  her  I  will  kill 
him  as  true  as  there  is  a  Heaven  above  us !" 

Never  before  had  Bart  heard  Frank  take  such  an  oath, 
and  he  realized  that  Merry  really  meant  it.  Should  harm 
come  to  Elsie,  Frank  would  seek  Elegant  Ed,  thirsting  for 
his  blood. 

Hodge  did  not  wonder,  for  he  had  known  for  a  long 
time  that  Frank  thought  the  world  of  Elsie.  He  had  seen 
Merry  hold  himself  in  restraint  when  all  sorts  of  injuries 
had  been  heaped  upon  him,  but  now,  if  the  girl  he  loved 
was  harmed,  he  would  be  like  a  raging  tiger. 

"He'll  keep  his  word!"  thought  Bart.  "He  will  kill 
Clair!" 

Hodge  knew  the  hour  had  come  when  all  the  passions 
Frank  had  held  in  check  so  long  might  break  forth  like  a 
conflagration.  Bart  had  realized  that  Frank  possessed 
these  passions,  but  held  them  in  check  by  wonderful  will 
power,  and  now  his  sympathy  was  fully  with  Merry. 

The  vessel  was  reached  and  Capt.  Bellwood  was  taken 
aboard  and  carried  into  his  cabin,  where  he  was  placed  io 


242  Foul  Play. 

a  bunk.  The  wound  on  his  head  was  not  bleeding  much, 
and  he  was  breathing  regularly. 

Frank  called  for  water,  and  bathed  the  old  skipper's 
head  and  face.  After  a  little,  the  captain  opened  his  eyes 
and  stared  about  in  a  dazed  way. 

"Captain,"  said  Frank,  softly  holding  his  voice  as  stead- 
ily as  possible,  "how  do  you  feel  ?" 

"Eh?"  said  Justin  Bellwood,  hazily.  "What's  the  mat- 
ter?" 

He  spoke  with  some  difficulty,  his  tongue  seeming  thick 
and  unwieldy  in  his  mouth. 

"You  were  hurt,  captain.    How  did  it  happen  ?" 

"Hurt?    I  don't  know.    My  head " 

He  lifted  a  hand  feebly  to  his  head,  and  then  paused,  ap- 
parently trying  to  collect  his  thoughts. 

All  at  once,  he  started  up  in  the  bunk,  crying : 

"My  little  gal!" 

"Yes,  yes!"  said  Frank,  steadying  him.  "Where  is 
she?" 

"Where  is  she  ?    God  knows !    Ain't  she  here  ?" 

"She  is  not  here,  captain.  We  found  you  in  the  road 
and  brought  you  here.  We  did  not  find  her !  We  found 
no  trace  of  her." 

For  some  moments  Capt.  Bellwood  raved  like  a  madman. 

"The  devils!"  he  cried.  "They  have  carried  her  away! 
Oh,  my  poor  little  gal !" 

"Who  did  it?"  demanded  Frank.  "Be  calm,  captain. 
Tell  us  who  did  it,  so  that  we  can  save  her." 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  Merriwell  could 
make  an  outward  showing  of  calmness  himself.  His  face 
was  deathly  pale,  and  his  eyes  were  blazing  with  a  wild 
light.  He  was  eager  to  hear  what  tlie  distracted  father 
could  tell. 

"I  don't  know  who  did  it !"  groaned  Capt.  Bellwood.  "I 
could  not  see  them  in  the  darkness." 


Foul  Play.  243 

"How  did  it  happen  ?" 

"We  were  coming  to  the  vessel.    Oh,  my  poor  Elsie  !'* 

"Yes,  yes — you  were  coming  to  the  vessel.    Go  on." 

"We  heard  footsteps  behind  us.  A  number  of  persons 
were  coming  on  the  run.  Almost  before  we  knew  it  they 
were  right  upon  us." 

"Go  cm !    Go  on !" 

"I  drew  Elsie  out  of  the  way  to  let  them  pass,  but  they 
stopped  and  surrounded  us.  One  of  them  grabbed  my  gal. 
I  struck  him  down,  old  man  though  I  am." 

"What  happened  then  ?" 

"Then  it  seemed  as  if  the  heavens  fell  on  my  head.  I 
saw  a  blinding  burst  of  light,  and  next  I  was  here.  My 
poor  Elsie !" 

It  was  all  Capt.  Bellwood  could  tell.  He  had  not  seen 
one  of  his  assailants  to  recognize  him,  and  he  did  not  know 
whither  Elsie  had  been  taken. 

Frank  was  certain  Elegant  Ed  and  his  gang  were  the 
culprits,  but  the  thought  that  he  could  not  follow  them  up 
at  once,  filled  him  with  such  despair  as  he  had  never  before 
known.  He  felt  like  destroying  anything  and  everything 
within  his  reach.  For  once  his  nerves  were  beyond  his 
control. 

Without  a  word  he  sprang  up  the  stairs,  reached  the 
deck,  and  rushed  ashore.  Before  anyone  could  stop  him 
or  ask  him  a  question,  he  had  vanished  in  the  darkness. 

It  seemed  to  Frank  that  he  must  rush  forth  and  find 
Elsie  somehow,  and  yet  he  fully  realized  his  utter  helpless- 
ness. On  the  morrow  he  could  have  Clair  and  his  gang 
arrested,  but  he  could  not  wait  till  to-morrow.  Time  was 
precious. 

"Oh,  God !    Lead  me  to  her !" 

The  words  came  from  his  lips,  although  scarcely  was  he 
aware  that  ke  uttered  them.  He  ran  on  through  the  dark- 


244  Foul 

ness  till  he  stumbled  and  fell  somewhere  beside  the  road 
that  ran  through  The  Harbor. 

Frank  sat  up,  benumbed,  dazed,  despairing.  His  utter 
helplessness  seemed  to  crush  him,  and  he  felt  that  his 
strength  had  gone  from  him.  All  his  life  he  had  held  him- 
self so  well  in  control  that  the  outburst  of  that  hour  had 
seemed  to  burn  the  heart  out  of  him  as  a  single  flash  burns 
the  powder  in  a  pan. 

For  some  moments  he  sat  there,  trying  to  collect  his 
thoughts.  There  were  footsteps  approaching,  the  murmur 
of  voices  came  nearer.  Two  persons  were  making  their 
way  into  the  fishermen's  settlement  from  the  village. 

"It's  a  bold  lark,"  said  one. 

"Almost  too  bold,"  came  from  the  other. 

"Hope  the  old  skipper  ain't  hurt  much." 

"Dick  says  he  only  tapped  him  hard  enough  to  knocB 
him  silly  for  a  little  while." 

In  a  single  instant  all  the  energy  and  life  came  back 
to  Frank  Merriwell.  He  listened,  hushing  his  breathing 
and  the  tumultuous  beating  of  his  heart  in  which  a  new 
hope  was  born. 

For  a  moment  the  two  fellows  stopped  near  where  Frank 
crouched.  One  asked  the  other  for  a  chew  of  tobacco,  and 
the  plug  was  dropped  in  passing  from  hand  to  hand.  Then 
they  struck  a  match  to  search  for  it,  and  the  flare  of  light 
threatened  to  betray  the  youth  who  knew  the  rescue  of 
Elsie  Bellwood  that  night  depended  on  what  he  should 
hear  from  the  lips  of  these  two  members  of  Elegant  Ed's 
gang. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

A     DARING    RESCU-E. 

The  match  burned  brighter.  Frank  Merriwell  remained 
perfectly  motionless.  He  could  have  been  seen  had  either 
of  the  two  village  lads  looked  in  his  direction. 

"Here  she  is!" 

The  tobacco  was  found  and  the  match  was  dropped. 

The  danger  of  discovery  was  past.  "How  is  Ed  goin'  to 
work  his  game  ?"  asked  one.  "He  won't  dare  hold  the  girl 
till  mornin',  for  the  whole  of  Fardale  will  be  on  the  hunt 
for  her  by  that  time." 

"He  don't  mean  to  do  that.  He's  goin'  to  rescue  her  be- 
fore long." 

"Rescue  her?" 

"Yep.  That's  his  trick  to  make  himself  stand  solid 
with  her  and  her  old  dad.  She  don't  know  he  had  anything 
to  do  with  the  kidnapin',  and  he  ain't  ever  goin'  to  let 
her  know." 

Now  Frank  Merriwell  was  listening,  determined  not  to 
miss  a  word. 

"Ed's  always  up  to  some  dare-devil  thing,  but  he  run 
against  a  snag  in  Frank  Merriwell.  Ginger!  but  Merri- 
well's  crowd  is  tough!  I'm  well  marked  to  pay  for  the 
part  I  took  in  that  scrap.  I  don't  see  what  Ed's  puttin' 
himself  to  so  much  trouble  for." 

"For  the  reason  that  he  wants  to  get  ahead  of  this  Merri- 
well. The  girl  is  stuck  on  Merriwell,  but  thinks  Merriwell 
is  stuck  on  that  other  girl  with  the  black  hair  and  eyes. 
Now,  if  Ed,  after  rescuing  her  from  drowning  to-day,  can 
save  her  from  a  gang  of  ruffians  who  kidnaped  her,  he 
ought  to  be  pretty  solid  with  the  little  peach.  See  ?  All 


246  A  Daring  Rescue. 

the  fellers  wear  masks,  so  she  can't  identify  us  when  she 
sees  us  ag'in.  We  have  her  down  in  Old  Green's  hut. 
After  we  keep  her  there  a  while,  Ed  breaks  in,  puts  us  all 
to  flight,  and  saves  her.  If  she  don't  glue  to  him  after  that 
she  ain't  so  soft  as  I  think  most  gals  are." 

"The  plan's  all  right,  if  nobody  don't  git  into  trouble 
carryin'  it  out." 

"Well,  Ed  pays  us  to  take  the  chances." 

"No  fellers  came  down  from  the  village  arter  Mem- 
well's  gang  ?" 

"No." 

"And  they're  all  on  the  vessel  ?" 

"Sure." 

"Well,  there  ain't  no  use  to  watch  the  road  longer.  Let's 
go  down  and  see  the  gal." 

Frank  Merriwell  tore  off  his  shoes  as  they  walked  away, 
and,  in  his  stockinged  feet  he  followed  them  with  the  foot- 
steps of  a  creeping  cat. 

"Oh,  I'll  take  a  hand  in  this  little  game !"  was  the  ex- 
ultant cry  of  his  heart.  "Go  on !  Lead  me  to  her !" 

He  felt  that  he  could  cope  with  a  score  of  foes  in  defense 
of  Elsie — his  Elsie.  From  deepest  despair  his  soul  had 
swung  back  to  hope  and  determination. 

With  the  skill  of  an  Indian  trailer  he  followed  the  two 
through  the  darkness.  They  passed  through  the  fishers' 
settlement,  and,  some  distance  beyond,  they  came  to  a 
wretched  hut  that  stood  by  itself  not  far  from  the  shore. 

Outside  the  door  of  this  hut  the  village  ruffians  paused  to 
turn  their  coats  and  hide  their  faces  with  masks.  Then 
they  gave  a  signal  knock  and  were  admitted. 

Frank  slipped  up  quickly.  Listening  at  the  door,  he 
heard  voices  within.  Then  he  passed  round  the  hut  and 
came  to  a  window  that  was  heavily  curtained  on  the  inside, 
so  that  not  a  single  ray  of  right  shone  out.  Once  more  he 
heard  voices. 


A  Daring  Rescue.  247 

"Don't  be  so  skeered,  little  gal,"  said  a  muffled  voice  that 
seemed  disguised.  "You  won't  be  killed." 

Then  Frank's  heart  went  into  his  throat  with  a  bound, 
for  he  heard  Elsie's  trembling  voice  pleading  with  them — 
entreating  them  to  let  her  go. 

Instantly  Frank  felt  about.  On  the  ground  almost  be- 
neath the  window  he  found  a  broken  clam  hoe. 

He  did  not  hesitate,  and  he  did  not  go  for  aid.  He  felt 
that  his  place  was  at  Elsie's  side,  and  he  swung  the  clam 
hoe. 

Smash !    Crash !    Jingle ! 

In  a  moment  he  had  smashed  in  the  window.  In  another 
moment,  having  torn  down  the  blanket  suspended  before  it, 
he  went  through  the  opening  at  a  single  bound. 

Coming  thus  suddenly  from  darkness  into  light,  he  was 
blinded  temporarily,  and,  as  he  straightened  up,  he 
blinked  like  an  owl,  realizing  that  he  was  face  to  face  with 
the  whole  of  Ed  Clair's  gang. 

"Frank!" 

A  scream  of  joy  from  Elsie.  She  broke  away  from  a 
big  fellow  who  was  holding  her  on  a  chair  and  rushed  into 
his  arms. 

"Elsie,  my  darling!" 

He  held  her  clasped  to  his  bosom,  half  fainting  as  she 
clung  there. 

It  was  a  genuine  sensation  and  a  powerful  tableau.  Be- 
fore him,  astounded  by  his  remarkable  entrance,  was  the 
gang  of  kidnapers,  all  of  them  disguised  and  masked. 

It  is  possible  that,  at  first,  some  of  them  had  fancied 
Frank  was  Ed  Clair,  but  when  he  was  fairly  within  the  hut 
and  had  straightened  up  before  them,  they  realized  the  mis- 
take. 

"It's  Merriwell !" 

Several  uttered  the  cry. 

For  some  moments  they  seemed  to  hesitate  on  the  point 


248  A  Daring  Rescue. 

of  flinging  open  the  door  and  taking  to  their  heels.  It  was 
plain  they  expected  Frank's  friends  to  follow  him  through 
the  broken  window. 

Seeing  he  was  not  followed  by  his  companions,  they  be- 
gan to  gather  courage.  The  big  fellow  who  had  been  hold- 
ing Elsie  in  a  chair  and  talking  to  her,  roared : 

"At  the  fool,  fellers !  Now's  our  chance  to  hammer  the 
life  out  of  him !" 

The  disguised  toughs  seemed  on  the  verge  of  rushing  at 
Merry. 

Frank  swung  Elsie  round  onto  his  left  arm,  and  with  his 
right  hand  he  lifted  the  broken  clam  hoe. 

"Come  on !"  he  challenged,  his  eyes  blazing — "come  on ! 
I'll  agree  to  drive  these  tines  into  a  few  of  you !  Some  of 
you  will  be  taken  out  here  on  stretchers !  Come  on !" 

It  seemed  that  he  was  eager  for  them  to  attack  him,  and 
that  caused  them  to  hesitate  again.  Surely,  if  he  struck 
one  of  them  on  the  head  with  the  broken  clam  hoe  the  tines 
would  pierce  the  brain  of  the  one  struck.  And  he  would 
not  hesitate  to  strike,  they  were  sure  of  that. 

"You  fool !"  roared  the  big  fellow.  "You  have  run  your 
head  into  a  trap !  Do  you  think  you'll  ever  get  out  of  here 
without  being  hammered  within  an  inch  of  your  life  ?" 

"There  are  not  enough  of  you  to  do  the  trick !"  flung 
back  Merriwell.  "You  dirty  loafers !  You  wretched  ruf- 
fians !  Come  at  me !  All  I  want  is  a  good  excuse  to  lay 
some  of  you  out  for  planting !" 

He  was  fierce  enough  just  then.  Had  there  been  a  hun- 
dred men  at  his  back,  he  could  not  have  faced  them  any 
more  boldly.  He  had  found  Elsie,  and  he  had  saved  her. 
He  gloried  in  that  thought. 

Elegant  Ed  was  not  on  hand  to  urge  his  tools  to  the  at- 
tack. He  was  making  ready  for  the  fake  rescue  he  had 
planned,  and  when  he  was  fully  ready  to  carry  it  out,  he 
;would  find  Frank  Merriwell  had  outwitted  him. 


A  Daring  Rescue.  249 

Elsie's  strength  came  back  when  she  saw  how  brave  and 
fearless  Frank  was.  Surely  he  must  have  friends  near. 

The  disguised  toughs  thought  the  same.  They  could  not 
believe  he  would  dare  smash  in  the  window  and  face  them 
thus,  armed  with  nothing  save  a  broken  clam  hoe,  unless 
his  friends  were  within  call. 

"They're  here  at  The  Harbor,"  declared  one,  and  Frank 
recognized  the  voice  as  one  of  the  two  fellows  who  had 
come  down  the  road.  "We  saw  them  come." 

"They  may  be  outside  that  very  window,  waiting  for  us 
to  attack  him,"  spoke  another.  "Perhaps  they've  got  guns 
and  are  ready  to  shoot  when  we  try  to  touch  him.  Mebbe 
that's  why  he  is  so  eager  for  us  to  try  it." 

That  filled  many  of  them  with  fear.  They  tried  to  peer 
out  into  the  darkness,  and  one  of  them  declared  he  could 
see  something  moving  out  there. 

Then  Frank,  who  was  a  skillful  ventriloquist,  seized  his 
opportunity.  Outside  the  window  a  voice  seemed  to  cry: 

"Hurro !    We  hiv  th'  spalpanes !    Come  on,  b'ys !" 

"Yaw !"  an  answering  voice  seemed  to  say.  "Surround 
der  houses  alretty  quick  right  avay!  Don'd  let  anypody 
escape !" 

That  was  quite  enough.  With  cries  of  fear,  the  young 
ruffians  tore  open  the  door  and  fought  among  themselves 
to  be  the  first  to  get  out.  Away  into  the  darkness  they 
fled,  and  they  did  not  stop  till  they  were  far  from  the  spot. 

And,  in  a  very  short  time,  Elsie  Bellwood  was  in  her 
father's  arms. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 
FRANK'S  CHOICE. 

On  tKe  following  day  Elegant  Ed  was  not  to  be  found 
in  Fardale.  He  had  disappeared,  and  with  him  had  gone 
the  two  young  toughs  Frank  had  followed  to  the  place 
where  Elsie  was  held  captive. 

It  was  plain  Clair  feared  the  outcome  of  his  desperate 
and  reckless  venture  to  make  himself  appear  a  hero  in 
Elsie  Bellwood's  eyes.  He  had  failed,  had  been  defeated 
by  Frank,  and  straightway  he  decamped,  fearing  arrest 
and  investigation. 

Fortunately,  Capt.  Bellwood  was  not  seriously  harmed. 
iWhen  his  child  was  restored  to  him  he  seemed  to  recover 
in  a  most  amazing  manner.  But  he  was  bitter  against 
Clair,  and  swore  it  would  not  be  well  with  the  dashing 
young  scoundrel  if  they  ever  met  again. 

The  captain  praised  Frank  for  his  daring.  Over  and 
over  Elsie  told  how  Frank  seemed  to  come  flying  through 
the  broken  window  to  her  rescue ;  how  he  boldly  faced  the 
whole  crowd  of  young  ruffians ;  how  single-handed  he  had 
saved  her. 

The  whole  of  Fardale  rang  with  the  story.  It  was  a 
sensation  for  the  little  town  that  had  been  given  several 
sensations  since  Frank's  appearance  there  as  a  visitor. 
Merry  was  regarded  as  something  of  a  marvel.  The  vil- 
lage boys  followed  him  when  he  appeared  in  town,  staring 
at  him,  and  telling  each  other  that  he  was  a  "jim-hickey." 

Frank  was  not  pleased  with  so  much  notoriety.  He  did 
not  strut  and  pose,  and  he  blushed  like  a  girl  when  anyone 
praised  him  to  his  face.  Open  praise  made  him  feel  like 


Frank's  Choice.  251 

running  away.  He  told  his  chums  that  he  would  be  driven 
out  of  the  town  if  "the  thing  kept  up." 

Merriwell's  exploit  was  no  surprise  to  his  comrades. 
Anything  he  might  do  would  not  seem  remarkable  to  them. 
But,  among  themselves,  they  discussed  his  exploit,  and 
agreed  that  not  one  fellow  in  a  thousand  would  have  dared 
face  the  toughs  single-handed,  nor  would  have  succeeded 
in  rescuing  Elsie  had  he  dared. 

Elsie  was  invited  and  urged  to  come  into  the  village  and 
stop  a  few  days  with  Inza.  She  finally  consented. 

The  girls  did  not  seem  to  tire  of  talking  about  the  kid- 
naping and  Frank's  daring  rescue. 

"Elsie,"  said  Inza,  with  unusual  gravity,  "no  fellow 
would  have  done  that  for  a  girl  he  did  not  care  more  for 
than  all  the  world." 

Elsie  blushed  and  shook  her  head. 

"It  was  not  that,  Inza !"  she  quickly  exclaimed.  "You 
know  Frank  is  not  like  any  other  fellow." 

"And  I  know  you  are  very  dear  to  him,  Elsie.  I  am  not 
blind." 

"Oh,  but  you  are  the  one  he  cares  more  for  than  anyone 
else." 

"I  doubt  that,"  came  firmly  from  Inza.  "Frank  likes 

me,  and  I  think  him  noble  and  all  that,  but — but 

Well,  Elsie,  to  be  plain,  he  can't  be  dead  stuck  on  both  of 
us.  There!" 

Then  she  laughed  merrily,  but  Elsie  fancied  the  laughter 
was  forced. 

"Even  if  he  were  stuck  on  us  both,"  Inza  went  on,  "this 
is  not  Utah,  and  we  are  not  Mormons.  He  must  choose 
between  us." 

A  look  of  deep  concern  came  to  Elsie  Bell  wood's  pretty 
face.  Again  she  shook  her  head. 

"I  have  no  right  to  ask  that,"  she  said.  "You  knew  him 
first.  I  would  not  come  between  you  for  worlds." 


252  Frank's  Choice. 

"Haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  smiled  the  dark-haired  girl; 
"but  there  are  things  one  can't  help,  and,  if  Frank  cares 
more  for  you  than  he  does  for  me,  I  want  to  know  it.  It 
wouldn't  do  a  bit  of  good  for  you  to  take  yourself  out  of 
the  way  and  leave  the  field  to  me,  for  he  would  continue  to 
care  for  you  just  the  same." 

The  girls  were  silent,  and  there  was  a  troubled  look  on 
Elsie's  face.  The  problem  before  them  frightened  her. 

Not  so  with  Inza.  She  was  determined  the  problem 
should  be  solved,  but  she  knew  it  would  not  do  for  them 
to  go  to  Frank  and  tell  him  to  choose  between  them.  That 
would  seem  immodest. 

"I  am  not  going  to  stay  in  Fardale  long,  Inza,"  said 
Elsie.  "In  a  few  days  I  shall  be  gone,  and  Frank  will  for- 
get me,  as  he  did  before." 

"You  foolish  girl !"  cried  Inza.  "He  did  not  forget  you." 

"But  my  letters " 

"Letters  miscarry  sometimes.  Frank  did  not  receive 
your  letters.  Once  I  wrote  to  him  and  he  did  not  answer. 
I  grew  angry  and  did  not  write  again.  Afterward  I  knew 
he  never  received  my  letter." 

"But,  Inza,  if  he  should  choose  between  us — if  he  should 
plainly  prefer  one  of  us " 

"What  then?" 

"Wouldn't  it  break  our  friendship?" 

"Look  here,  Elsie  Bellwood,  let's  make  an  agreement 
now.  Let's  swear  to  be  friends  always  and  forever,  no 
matter  what  happens.  We  can't  both  of  us  have  Frank. 
Perhaps  some  time  when  we  are  older  and — and — married 
— perhaps  we  may  want  to  visit  each  other.  Are  we  going 
to  be  foolish  and  never  do  so  just  because  both  of  us  could 
not  get  the  same  fellow  ?" 

Inza  was  very  grave,  and  Elsie  was  equally  so.  They 
pledged  themselves  then  and  there  always  to  be  friends,  no 
matter  what  might  happen. 


Frank's  Choice.  253 

Back  of  Fardale  village  less  than  a  mile  lay  a  small  lake. 
It  was  the  same  upon  which  Frank  and  Paul  Rains  had 
once  raced  for  life  when  Inza  and  May  Blossom  broke 
through  the  ice  while  skating  there  winters  before. 

There  were  water  lilies  on  the  lake,  and  so,  one  after- 
noon, Inza  and  Elsie  went  there  to  gather  some.  They 
procured  a  small  boat  and  rowed  about  on  the  lake. 

They  had  not  been  there  long  before  Inza  saw  two  lads 
rowing  up  from  the  lower  end  of  the  lake.  She  recognized 
them  at  a  distance  as  Frank  Merriwell  and  Bart  Hodge. 

A  sudden  thought  seemed  to  come  to  the  dark-haired 
girl. 

"Can  you  swim,  Elsie !"  she  asked. 

"Not  much,"  was  the  answer.  "I  tried  to  learn  lasi 
summer,  but  did  not  succeed  very  well." 

"But  you  can  swim  a  little  ?" 

"Oh,  a  very  little." 

"Do  you  think  you  could  keep  afloat  a  minute  ?" 

"Possibly  I  might.    Why  do  you  ask  ?" 

"Oh,  I  just  wanted  to  know,"  answered  Inza,  evasively. 

Elsie  soon  saw  the  other  boat  approaching,  and  called 
Inza's  attention  to  it. 

"Don't  seem  to  notice  them  at  all,"  said  Inza.  "There 
are  some  lovely  lilies.  Let's  be  gathering  them." 

So  they  rowed  toward  the  lilies,  while  Frank  and  Bart 
rowed  nearer,  sending  their  light  boat  along  with  regular 
and  powerful  strokes.  Both  lads  were  splendid  rowers. 
They  had  removed  coats  and  vests,  and  seemed  to  be 
stripped  down  for  work.  It  was  plain  they  enjoyed  rowing. 

At  last,  when  the  boys  were  quite  near,  Inza  leaned  fa* 
out  of  the  boat  to  reach  for  a  lily.  She  touched  it,  but  the 
boat  suddenly  tipped  and  began  to  take  in  water.  Both 
girls  screamed,  and,  in  another  second,  the  boat  capsized 
and  they  were  in  the  water. 


254  Frank's  Choice. 

The  boys  heard  them  scream  and  turned  to  see  wliat  had 
happened. 

"Jupiter !"  gasped  Bart.    "They've  upset !" 

Without  a  word,  Frank  leaped  up  and  plunged  over- 
board. He  was  a  splendid  swimmer,  and  the  imperiled 
girls  were  not  far  away.  Both  seemed  to  be  struggling 
helplessly. 

"I'll  save  them  both,  if  possible !"  he  thought. 

But  he  was  determined  to  save  one  of  them,  anyhow. 
Elsie's  pale  face  was  turned  pleadingly  toward  him,  her 
eyes  filled  with  fear  and  entreaty. 

A  few  strong  strokes  brought  Frank  to  her  side.  He 
caught  hold  of  her,  speaking  to  her  soothingly,  and  assur- 
ing her  that  she  was  all  right. 

As  soon  as  he  did  this,  Inza  Burrage  suddenly  began  to 
swim  toward  the  capsized  boat.  She  caught  hold  of  the 
stern  and  held  herself  up,  crying : 

"I  am  all  right !    Help  them  out  first,  Mr.  Hodge." 

Bart  obeyed  her  so  far  as  Elsie  was  concerned.  He 
whirled  the  boat  about  and  backed  it  up  so  that,  aided  by 
Frank,  he  lifted  Elsie  in  over  the  stern. 

"Take  Inza  in  now,"  said  Frank,  immediately  turning 
and  swimming  to  where  the  other  girl  was  clinging  to  the 
capsized  boat. 

Bart  backed  his  boat  down  to  the  place,  and  Inza  was 
helped  in  beside  Elsie.  She  laughed  as  she  was  lifted  from 
the  water. 

Then  Frank  came  in  over  the  bow,  and  took  his  turn  at 
laughing. 

"Just  a  summer  bath,"  he  said.  "It  really  doesn't  amount 
to  anything,  although  it's  too  bad  for  you  girls  to  get  wet 
like  this." 

Inza  was  thinking  that  it  amounted  to  far  more  than  he 
dreamed.  There  was  a  pain  hi  her  heart,  but  she  was  hid- 
ing it  successfully. 


Frank's  Choice.  255 

The  girls  sat  together  on  the  stern  seat,  and  the  boys 
rowed  them  ashore. 

"How  in  the  world  did  it  happen,  Inza?"  asked  Elsie. 
"You  reached  for  a  lily,  and " 

"And  reached  too  far,"  smiled  Inza.  "I  capsized  the 
boat." 

She  did  not  add  that  she  capsized  it  purposely,  but  sucK 
was  the  case.  However,  she  did  whisper  in  Elsie's  ear : 

"I  said  he  should  choose  between  us,  and  he  has.  When 
we  were  both  in  peril,  he  hastened  to  save  you  first,  dear. 
You  are  his  choice !" 

"Don't  be  so  sure,"  murmured  Elsie,  yet  she  could  not 
hide  the  look  of  pleasure  that  came  into  her  face. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  all  had  an  opportunity  of 
drying  their  clothing,  and  then  they  went  out  on  the  lake 
together  and  had  a  good  time  for  two  hours. 

And  here  we  must,  for  the  present,  leave  our  hero. 
There  were  still  many  adventures  in  store  for  him,  some 
of  which  will  be  related  in  the  next  volume  of  this  series. 
But  all  went  well  now,  for  Elegant  Ed  kept  out  of  sight, 
and  so,  too,  did  Rupert  Reynolds,  Wat  Snell  and  Win 
Harding. 

"They  are  afraid  of  Frank,"  declared  Bart.  "They 
know  Merry  is  a  very  tiger  when  aroused." 

"It's  the  old  Yale  spirit,"  put  in  Bruce  Browning. 
"When  it  once  gets  into  a  fellow's  veins  he  can't  help  but 
be  a  hero." 

And  all  agreed  with  the  big  fellow. 


THE  END. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS "} 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
larity accorded  to  the  Frank  Merriwell  Stories. 

There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
Merriwell,  as  portrayed  by  the  author,  is  a  jolly,  whole- 
souled,  honest,  courageous  American  lad,  who  appeals 
to  the  hearts  of  the  boys.  He  has  no  bad  habits,  and 
his  manliness  inculcates  the  idea  that  it  is  not  necessary 
ror  a  boy  to  indulge  in  petty  vices  to  be  a  hero.  Frank 
Merriwell's  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
lad  to  follow. 

Twenty-four  volumes  ready 

Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

Frank  Merriwell's  Foes  Frank  Merriwell's  Return  to  Yale 

Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Merriwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell'g  False  Friend  , 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(1) 


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Mr.  Grayson  is  an  accomplished  writer  of  up-to-the- 
minute  juvenile  stories  which  are  eagerly  read  by 
modern  American  lads. 

In  his  new  series,  his  characters  have  exciting  adven- 
tures with  every  kind  of  motor-driven  machines — motor 
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Now  Ready 

BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  CYCLE 
BOB  STEELE  ON  HIGH  GEAR 
BOB  STEELE   FROM  AUTO  TO  AIRSHIP 
BOB  STEELE  AFLOAT  IN  THE  CLOUDS 
BOB  STEELE'S  SUBMARINE  CRUISE 
BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 
BOB  STEELE'S  MOTOR  BOAT 
BOB  STEELE'S  WINNING  RACE 
BOB  STEELE'S  NEW  AEROPLANE 
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